He Kissed a Billionaire to Stop Her Kidnapping—Then the Mafia Boss Revealed Who Ordered Her Disappearance

The following evening, I sat in the back of Dominic’s armored Maybach, staring blankly at the massive diamond ring currently heavy on my left hand.

Dominic hadn't spared any expense on the illusion. The ring was a flawless, emerald-cut diamond flanked by baguettes, aggressive in its size and brilliance. It felt like a handcuff.

"Stop twisting it," Dominic murmured from the seat beside me. "You look nervous."

"I am nervous," I snapped, shooting him a glare. "I’m about to have dinner with the man who ordered my kidnapping twenty-four hours ago, and I have to pretend I eloped with a mafia boss."

Dominic adjusted his cuffs, his dark suit impeccable. "You didn't elope with a mafia boss, Nora. You eloped with a passionate, wealthy investor who swept you off your feet during a vulnerable time."

"Right. Very believable."

"It’s believable because you’re going to sell it," he commanded, his voice hardening slightly. "Charles thinks his men failed at the museum because you got lucky and slipped away. He doesn't know about me yet. We maintain the element of surprise until dessert."

The car pulled up to Le Bernardin. Charles always insisted on the finest dining when he was spending company money.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart.

"Ready, darling?" Dominic asked, holding his arm out to me as the driver opened the door.

I forced a radiant, sickeningly sweet smile onto my face and took his arm. "Let’s go see Uncle Charles."

We walked into the restaurant. The maitre d' immediately recognized Dominic, bowing slightly and escorting us to the private dining room in the back.

My uncle Charles was already there, sipping a martini, looking entirely unbothered. He wore a perfectly tailored suit, his silver hair immaculate. He looked like the loving patriarch he had pretended to be my entire life.

When he saw me enter, his smile was instant and warm.

"Nora, sweetheart!" Charles beamed, standing up and opening his arms. "I was so worried when you disappeared last night. The coat check girl said you left abruptly."

I wanted to vomit. I stepped forward and allowed him to hug me, fighting the urge to shove him away.

"I’m sorry, Uncle Charles," I lied smoothly, pulling back. "I felt overwhelmed. But I didn't leave alone."

I stepped aside, revealing Dominic, who had been standing just outside the doorway.

Charles’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second. His eyes darted over Dominic’s imposing frame, recognizing the danger but not immediately placing the face.

"Charles, I’d like you to meet Dominic," I said, sliding my hand into Dominic’s. "Dominic Torino."

The color drained from Charles’s face so rapidly I thought he might faint. He recognized the name. Every corrupt businessman in New York recognized the name Torino.

"Torino," Charles breathed, his professional mask slipping, revealing the panicked schemer underneath. He looked at me, utterly bewildered. "Nora, what is the meaning of this?"

"Dominic is more than just a friend, Charles," I said, lifting my left hand to brush a stray lock of hair behind my ear, ensuring the massive diamond caught the ambient light of the private room.

Charles stared at the ring, his mouth opening and closing silently.

"We eloped," Dominic stated, his voice a low, threatening rumble that filled the small space. He didn't offer to shake Charles’s hand. He simply pulled out my chair and waited for me to sit.

Charles sank slowly back into his own chair, his mind visibly racing to recalculate his entire strategy. The medical proxy was useless now. The hostile takeover was dead in the water. The Falcones were going to demand answers.

"Eloped," Charles repeated, a forced, hollow laugh escaping him. "Well. This is certainly unexpected. Nora, you didn't mention you were seeing anyone."

"We wanted to keep it private," I said, playing the besotted bride, resting my hand over Dominic’s on the table. "Especially with everything happening at the company. Dominic has been such a rock for me."

"I imagine," Charles choked out, staring at Dominic. "Mr. Torino, your reputation precedes you. I must admit, I’m surprised you have an interest in... hospitality."

"I have an interest in my wife’s legacy," Dominic corrected smoothly, pouring me a glass of sparkling water. "And ensuring that no one takes advantage of her grief."

The threat was thinly veiled and perfectly executed. Charles swallowed hard, reaching for his martini.

"Of course," Charles stammered. "We all want what’s best for Windsor Hotels."

"Speaking of Windsor Hotels," Dominic shifted gears effortlessly, becoming the ruthless businessman I knew he was. "Nora and I were reviewing the proposed Chicago acquisitions this afternoon."

Charles froze.

"We’ve decided to block the deal," I announced, finding a sudden, exhilarating surge of genuine confidence. "I’ll be officially vetoing the acquisition at the board meeting on Monday."

Charles’s face turned an ugly shade of red. The polite uncle vanished entirely.

"You can't do that, Nora," Charles hissed, leaning forward, forgetting his fear of Dominic for a moment. "That deal is the future of this company. I’ve spent months negotiating with those investors!"

"The Falcone investors?" Dominic asked quietly.

The silence that followed was deafening. The air in the room felt thick enough to cut with a knife.

Charles stared at Dominic, sheer terror washing over him. He realized Dominic knew everything. The kidnapping. The proxy. The Falcone connection.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Charles lied, his voice trembling.

"You do," Dominic said, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table, closing the distance between them. "The Chicago deal is dead, Charles. If you attempt to bring it to a vote on Monday, I will personally hand the SEC the offshore routing numbers you used to communicate with the Falcone syndicate."

Charles looked at me, a desperate, pleading look in his eyes. "Nora, please. You have to understand. The company needed capital. I was trying to save us."

"You were trying to sell me," I stated coldly, dropping the loving niece act entirely. "You sent men to drag me into a freight elevator, Charles."

Charles didn't deny it. He looked down at his empty martini glass, defeated.

"You have until Monday to tender your resignation," I told him, standing up. "If you are not gone by 9:00 AM, I am calling the police."

"The police won't touch me," Charles scoffed weakly, trying to muster some remaining pride.

"No," Dominic agreed, standing up beside me, towering over my uncle. "But I will."

We turned and walked out of the private dining room, leaving Charles Windsor alone with the ashes of his failed coup.

The ride back to the penthouse was different. The heavy, oppressive silence was gone, replaced by the lingering adrenaline of victory. I had faced the man who wanted me dead, and I had won.

"You did well," Dominic murmured, breaking the silence as we stepped into the private elevator.

"It felt good," I admitted, looking down at the diamond ring. "To see him realize he had lost."

"He hasn't lost yet, Nora," Dominic warned, his expression turning serious as the elevator doors opened into the penthouse. "Charles is a desperate man backed into a corner by the Falcones. He won't just resign quietly. He has to deliver something to them, or they will kill him."

My stomach tightened. "What can he deliver if he doesn't have the company?"

Dominic walked over to the windows, staring out at the dark city.