Chapter 2 - DOMINIC CANCELED THE ONE MEETING EVERYONE BELIEVED HE WOULD NEVER MISS
Sophia Carter discovered what her daughter had done at exactly 8:12 the following morning.
Not the drawing.
She already knew about that humiliation.
The other thing.
She entered the breakfast room carrying a silver coffee service and found Dominic Moretti seated alone at the long table with Lily’s crayon picture resting beside his phone.
He was studying it with the same expression he usually reserved for financial reports containing numbers he did not like.
Sophia placed the coffee down.
“Sir.”
Dominic looked up.
“Sophia.”
She hated the way he said her name sometimes.
Too carefully.
As though he noticed more than an employer should.
“My daughter will not bother you again.”
“She didn’t bother me.”
“She asked you to become my boyfriend.”
“I remember.”
Sophia closed her eyes briefly.
“I am so sorry.”
“Stop apologizing for her.”
“That is difficult when she has apparently started arranging my romantic life with organized crime.”
The corner of Dominic’s mouth moved.
Sophia immediately regretted being funny.
Then his expression became serious.
“What time are you leaving tomorrow?”
She froze.
“For Pennsylvania?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I asked.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
Dominic leaned back.
Sophia had worked for him long enough to recognize the moment when most people began losing arguments.
She refused to participate.
“We’re leaving around six.”
“Driving?”
“Yes.”
“Five hours?”
“Closer to six with Lily.”
“Who’s driving?”
“I am.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“My car works.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
“Then ask a less intrusive question.”
Silence.
One of the servers near the doorway suddenly became fascinated by a floral arrangement.
Dominic stared at Sophia.
Then, surprisingly:
“Fair.”
She blinked.
He continued.
“You said your mother has only a few months.”
“The doctors don’t know exactly.”
“And your sister’s wedding is tomorrow.”
“Yes.”
“Lily thinks your mother wants to see you with somebody before she dies.”
Sophia’s face heated.
“My mother wants a lot of things.”
“So?”
“So I do not reorganize my life every time a dying woman gets sentimental.”
The words came out harsher than she intended.
Dominic noticed.
“Do you mean that?”
Sophia looked toward the windows.
“No.”
There it was.
The truth.
Her mother, Margaret Carter, had stage-four pancreatic cancer.
Three chemotherapy protocols.
One clinical trial.
Then the sentence families spend months pretending not to hear:
Comfort-focused care.
Sophia’s younger sister Emily had postponed her wedding twice already.
Margaret finally refused to allow a third delay.
“I would rather attend my daughter’s wedding sick than have everyone spend another year waiting for me to die.”
That was Margaret.
Stubborn enough to argue with cancer.
Sophia swallowed.
“She worries about me.”
“Why?”
“Because mothers worry.”
“That isn’t what Lily said.”
Sophia’s shoulders stiffened.
“Lily is three.”
“Three-year-olds are unreliable about taxes and geography.”
“Not usually emotions.”
She looked at him.
Something dark moved through Dominic’s expression.
Memory.
His mother.
Sophia knew only fragments.
Isabella Moretti had died fifteen years earlier.
Cancer.
Dominic rarely spoke of her.
Then his phone rang.
He glanced down.
Marco Bellini.
His longtime lieutenant.
Dominic answered.
“What?”
Marco spoke loudly enough that Sophia caught only fragments.
Waterfront.
Romano.
Security.
Saturday.
Dominic’s expression hardened.
“Move the meeting.”
Sophia looked up.
Marco apparently objected.
Dominic’s voice became quieter.
That was always worse.
“I didn’t ask if Victor Romano liked the change.”
A pause.
“Sunday.”
Another pause.
“No.”
Dominic ended the call.
Sophia stared.
“What did you just do?”
“Moved a meeting.”
“Why?”
He looked at her.
“Because I’m busy Saturday.”
She had the sudden, terrible feeling Lily had succeeded.
“No.”
Dominic frowned.
“No what?”
“No.”
“Sophia.”
“You are not coming to Pennsylvania.”
“I haven’t asked yet.”
“You moved a mafia meeting.”
“It is a waterfront development negotiation.”
“Do the waterfront developers usually arrive with armed guards?”
“Chicago zoning is complicated.”
She almost laughed.
Almost.
“No.”
Dominic looked irritated now.
“Lily asked me.”
“Lily also once asked the gardener whether clouds can be adopted.”
“She makes ambitious requests.”
“She is three.”
“I am aware.”
Sophia lowered her voice.
“My family does not know who you really are.”
Dominic raised an eyebrow.
“Everyone knows who I am.”
“They know what newspapers say.”
“That may be worse.”
“Exactly.”
She leaned closer.
“My sister is getting married.”
“My mother is dying.”
“I want one weekend where nobody whispers about security, shootings, investigations, docks, rivals, or the Moretti name.”
Dominic’s expression changed.
Not offended.
Something quieter.
“I understand.”
Sophia blinked.
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“So I won’t go as Dominic Moretti.”
Her mouth fell open.
“What?”
“I’ll go as Dominic.”
“No last name?”
“That becomes suspicious.”
“You are not going.”
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
“Excuse me?”
“Lily’s deadline is tomorrow.”
Sophia stared at him.
He remained perfectly serious for three seconds.
Then she saw it.
He was joking.
Dominic Moretti had made a joke.
That was somehow more destabilizing than organized crime.
“You find this funny?”
“Somewhat.”
“I could quit.”
“That would make this conversation considerably less convenient.”
She turned to leave.
Dominic spoke behind her.
“Your mother shouldn’t spend her daughter’s wedding worrying about whether you’ll be alone after she dies.”
Sophia stopped.
Every trace of humor disappeared.
He continued.
“And you shouldn’t have to perform happiness for her either.”
Sophia looked back slowly.
“Then why are we discussing this?”
“Because maybe there is a third option.”
“What?”
“Tell her the truth.”
“That you’re tired.”
“Scared.”
“Not interested in dating right now.”
“Whatever the truth is.”
Sophia stared.
This was not the answer she expected from a man whose life revolved around forcing outcomes.
Dominic stood.
“But if you need somebody beside you because your family is difficult…”
He nodded toward Lily’s drawing.
“I have apparently received a recommendation.”
Sophia looked down.
The crooked black stick figure.
Tall.
Ridiculous shoulders.
FRIEND written overhead.
“Why would you do that?”
Dominic’s expression became distant.
“My mother asked me to sit with her.”
Sophia knew immediately what he meant.
“The day she died?”
“Yes.”
“I chose a meeting instead.”
His voice remained controlled.
“I arrived eight minutes too late.”
Sophia’s anger softened.
Not disappeared.
Softened.
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I.”
“You couldn’t have known.”
“I knew she was dying.”
That silenced her.
Dominic continued.
“People like me become very good at convincing ourselves the urgent thing is the important thing.”
“Usually because urgent things make us feel powerful.”
“Dying mothers don’t.”
Sophia’s throat tightened.
He looked at the drawing.
“Lily reminded me.”
Before Sophia could answer, Marco entered without knocking.
That alone meant trouble.
“Boss.”
Dominic’s expression changed instantly.
“What?”
Marco glanced at Sophia.
Dominic said:
“Speak.”
“Someone accessed your Saturday movement file.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
“Whose credentials?”
“Jonas.”
Dominic’s security chief.
“Did he?”
“No.”
“He was with me.”
Dominic went still.
Marco continued.
“Whoever did it searched three things.”
“Waterfront route.”
“Estate staff leave schedule.”
“And Sophia Carter.”
The room became silent.
Sophia felt cold.
“Me?”
Marco looked toward her.
“Yes.”
Dominic’s face became something she had seen only twice in four years.
Dangerously empty.
“What about her?”
“Personnel file.”
“Emergency contacts.”
“Home address.”
“Family address in Pennsylvania.”
Sophia stopped breathing.
Her mother’s house.
Emily’s wedding.
Lily.
Dominic asked:
“Who has access?”
“Seven people.”
“Reduce it.”
“Already did.”
“Lock down the estate.”
Sophia stepped forward.
“No.”
Both men looked at her.
“I am still going.”
Dominic stared.
“Sophia.”
“My sister is getting married.”
“My mother may not see another wedding.”
“I am going.”
“Someone just pulled your family address.”
“And I want police informed.”
“Independent security.”
“Not a Moretti convoy turning my sister’s church into a fortress.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
Then he did something Marco clearly did not expect.
He asked:
“What would you accept?”
Sophia blinked.
“A driver.”
“Two plainclothes security officers.”
“Separate car.”
“No visible weapons.”
“They do not enter the church unless something happens.”
Dominic considered.
“Four officers.”
“Two.”
“Three.”
“Fine.”
“Armored vehicle.”
“No.”
“Sophia.”
“My mother’s driveway barely fits a Honda.”
“Armored SUV.”
“Dominic.”
“Non-negotiable.”
She crossed her arms.
“Everything is negotiable.”
Marco turned slightly, probably hiding amusement.
Dominic stared.
Then:
“Reinforced SUV that does not look armored.”
“Fine.”
“And I go.”
“No.”
His face hardened.
She continued.
“If someone is looking at me because of you, showing up beside me may increase the danger.”
That landed.
Dominic went silent.
Marco looked toward him.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“She’s right.”
Dominic gave him a look promising future consequences.
Marco accepted them heroically.
Sophia softened slightly.
“Move your meeting.”
“Stay here.”
“Figure out who accessed the file.”
“Let me go see my mother.”
Dominic’s eyes moved toward Lily’s picture.
Then back to Sophia.
“All right.”
She exhaled.
He added:
“But if anything changes, I decide based on the threat.”
“No.”
His eyes narrowed.
“We decide.”
Sophia corrected.
A long silence.
Then Dominic nodded.
“We decide.”
Sophia left the room feeling strangely unsteady.
She had won the argument.
That was not the unsettling part.
The unsettling part was that Dominic Moretti had listened.
At 9:40 that evening, Sophia finished packing Lily’s tiny suitcase.
Pink dress.
Rabbit.
Shoes.
Too many crayons.
Her own phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
She opened the message.
A photograph.
Her mother’s house in Pennsylvania.
Taken that afternoon.
Sophia’s blood turned to ice.
Then a second message appeared.
TELL MORETTI TO KEEP SATURDAY’S MEETING OR YOUR FAMILY PAYS FOR HIS CHANGE OF PLANS.
Sophia stared at the screen.
For years she had kept Dominic’s dangerous world separate from hers.
One message erased the boundary.
Then Lily wandered into the room.
“Mommy?”
Sophia turned the phone facedown.
“Yes, baby?”
“Is Mr. Dominic coming?”
Sophia looked at her daughter.
At the rabbit.
At the suitcase.
At the life she had tried so carefully to keep small enough to protect.
Her phone rang.
Dominic.
She answered immediately.
“Someone sent me a picture of my mother’s house.”
Silence.
Then Dominic’s voice became terrifyingly calm.
May you like
“I’m coming upstairs.”
This time Sophia did not tell him no.
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