Chapter 2 - DOMINIC SAID HE WAS ONLY DRIVING THEM TO THE WEDDING, BUT LILY HAD OTHER PLANS
Sophia stared at Dominic across the kitchen island.
For four years, she had worked inside his house.
She knew how he took coffee.
Black.
No sugar.
She knew he read financial reports before sunrise, never ate breakfast unless someone physically placed food in front of him, and hated anyone touching the antique watch his mother had given him.
She knew which rooms staff were allowed to enter.
Which doors remained locked.
Which guests made Marco stand closer to Dominic than usual.
But in four years, she had never seen Dominic Moretti standing barefoot in his own kitchen at four-thirty in the morning asking about her sister’s wedding.
“I’m sorry?”
Dominic looked almost annoyed that she had not understood him.
“Your sister’s wedding is Saturday.”
“Yes.”
“You and Lily are going.”
Sophia nodded slowly.
“That was the plan.”
“I’m driving you.”
“No.”
The word escaped before she could stop it.
Dominic blinked.
Sophia nearly apologized.
Then remembered she was thirty years old and he was offering transportation, not issuing a court order.
“No, thank you.”
Dominic leaned one hand on the marble counter.
“Why?”
“Because my family lives three hours away.”
“I know.”
“You have work.”
“Yes.”
“Apparently trouble at the docks.”
His eyes narrowed.
“You listen.”
“I clean houses.”
“People forget I’m there.”
A faint smile touched his mouth.
Then disappeared.
“Sophia.”
“No.”
She folded her arms.
“I appreciate the offer.”
“But I have a car.”
A very old car.
With a heater that worked only when it felt emotionally supported.
Dominic clearly knew.
“Your car needs rear brakes.”
Sophia stared.
“How do you know that?”
“Marco heard the sound.”
“Marco needs hobbies.”
“I’ve told him.”
From the doorway came a tiny voice.
“Mr. Dominic can come.”
Sophia closed her eyes.
Lily stood there wearing the same pink pajamas and now both slippers.
Her rabbit hung from one hand.
“Lily, back to bed.”
“But he has a big car.”
“No.”
“And snacks.”
Dominic looked at Sophia.
“I have snacks?”
“You do now.”
Lily climbed onto a kitchen stool.
Then she looked at Dominic seriously.
“Do you have wedding clothes?”
He stared at her.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Sophia immediately said:
“No.”
Dominic’s eyes moved toward her.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were thinking.”
“That appears to be a recurring accusation in this house.”
Lily leaned forward.
“My grandpa is going to ask Mommy where her boyfriend is.”
Sophia covered her face.
“Please stop helping.”
Dominic looked toward Lily.
“Does your grandfather ask often?”
“Yes.”
“Lily.”
“What?”
“It’s true.”
Then the three-year-old turned toward Dominic and whispered loudly:
“Grandpa thinks Mommy makes bad choices.”
Sophia went completely still.
Dominic’s expression changed.
“Does he?”
Lily nodded.
“He said she picked a bad daddy for me.”
The kitchen fell silent.
Sophia felt heat rise into her face.
“Lily.”
Her daughter looked confused.
“Grandma said Grandpa shouldn’t say it.”
Sophia picked Lily up.
“That’s enough.”
Lily wrapped both arms around her mother’s neck.
Then looked over Sophia’s shoulder at Dominic.
“You can be Mommy’s friend.”
Sophia carried her out of the kitchen before she could propose marriage again.
But five minutes later, while helping Lily back into bed, Sophia realized she was crying.
Not because Lily embarrassed her.
Because Lily remembered.
Children absorbed sentences adults thought disappeared into the air.
Her father had never forgiven Sophia for getting pregnant at twenty-four.
Lily’s biological father, Ryan Cole, disappeared when Sophia was six months pregnant.
No money.
No calls.
No goodbye.
Sophia left nursing school because the schedule became impossible after Lily’s birth.
Her mother, Margaret, told her she had nothing to apologize for.
Her father, Harold, told her she had “thrown away her future.”
He loved Lily.
Sophia knew that.
But love did not prevent him from occasionally using Sophia’s life as a cautionary tale.
Then Margaret got sick.
Breast cancer first.
Treatment.
Remission.
Then recurrence.
Bones.
Liver.
Now comfort care.
Time.
Sophia sat beside Lily until her daughter slept.
When she returned to the kitchen, Dominic had not moved much.
He had poured coffee.
One cup for himself.
One for her.
Cream already added.
Sophia stared.
“You know how I take coffee?”
“You’ve worked here four years.”
“Most days you barely acknowledge I’m in the room.”
“I acknowledge more than I say.”
That sentence felt dangerous.
She picked up the mug anyway.
“Dominic—”
His eyes lifted.
The first name escaped naturally.
Neither of them corrected it.
Sophia continued.
“My father is difficult.”
“I gathered.”
“He loves us.”
“That doesn’t make every word harmless.”
She looked at him.
Something in his tone suggested experience.
Then he said:
“My mother died believing I cared more about work than her.”
Sophia’s expression softened.
“I’m sorry.”
“I was eight minutes late.”
“You mentioned that?”
“No.”
He looked toward the dark kitchen window.
“She called.”
“I was in a meeting.”
“The nurse called.”
“Three times.”
“I answered the fourth.”
“When I reached the hospital, she was gone.”
Sophia did not know what to say.
Dominic rarely spoke about himself.
Never about grief.
He continued.
“I spent three years thinking the lesson was to answer faster.”
“What do you think now?”
“That sometimes there isn’t enough time left to keep postponing what matters.”
The kitchen became very quiet.
Then:
“So I’m driving.”
Sophia almost laughed.
“You turned emotional growth into kidnapping logistics.”
“It is not kidnapping if you agree.”
“I haven’t.”
“Yet.”
She shook her head.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you care?”
Dominic looked toward the hallway where Lily slept.
Then at Sophia.
He could have lied.
Instead:
“Your daughter asked me to.”
Sophia’s chest tightened.
“That is not a reason.”
“No.”
He paused.
“But I also remember my mother asking me to visit when I thought there would be another Sunday.”
He looked away.
“There wasn’t.”
Sophia stopped arguing.
At six that evening, she told him yes.
With conditions.
“We drive ourselves once we get there.”
“Fine.”
“You don’t pay for my family’s hotel rooms.”
“I didn’t offer.”
“You thought about it.”
He said nothing.
“See?”
“Fine.”
“No pretending to be my boyfriend.”
Dominic’s eyes lifted.
“I definitely did not offer that.”
“Lily will.”
“That is becoming obvious.”
“No intimidating my father.”
“I have never met your father.”
“You intimidate furniture.”
That almost made him laugh.
“And no bodyguards inside the wedding.”
“Two outside.”
“One.”
“Two.”
“Dominic.”
“There is a credible security concern involving Victor Romano.”
Sophia’s expression changed.
“Does that concern us?”
“No.”
“Then one.”
“It concerns anyone traveling with me.”
Sophia stared.
He continued.
“Two.”
She sighed.
“Fine.”
Saturday morning arrived with snow threatening the highway.
Dominic’s black SUV appeared in front of the estate at seven.
Marco drove.
Sophia stopped.
“You said you were driving.”
“I meant I was going.”
“That is not the same sentence.”
Marco looked at Dominic.
“I like her.”
Dominic opened the rear door.
“Get in.”
Lily climbed inside wearing a yellow dress beneath her coat and immediately announced:
“Mr. Dominic, you look handsome.”
He glanced down at his dark suit.
“Thank you.”
“Mommy looks prettier.”
“I agree.”
Sophia froze.
Dominic seemed to realize what he had said one second too late.
Marco became intensely interested in the road.
Lily smiled like a tiny criminal who had just accomplished something.
The drive took three and a half hours.
Lily talked for almost three of them.
She told Dominic about dinosaurs.
Wedding cake.
Why rabbits should be allowed in grocery stores.
Her theory that adults got married mostly because “they like sharing blankets.”
Dominic listened.
Actually listened.
At one point Lily fell asleep with her head against his arm.
Sophia expected him to move.
He didn’t.
For forty minutes, Chicago’s most feared mafia boss sat completely still because a three-year-old had chosen him as a pillow.
Sophia looked out the window so he would not see her smile.
They reached the small Pennsylvania? Wait family lives 3 hours from NYC likely upstate NY, maybe Hudson Valley. Keep New York. They reached a town north of Albany? Three hours from NYC. Let's choose Hudson Valley town called Millbrook maybe ~2h. Could be Hudson Valley. "small Hudson Valley town". Good.
They reached the small Hudson Valley town just after noon.
The wedding was at a restored barn beside an old orchard.
Sophia saw her father first.
Harold Carter stood near the entrance.
Gray hair.
Dark suit.
The same expression of restrained disappointment he had worn through half her adult life.
His eyes went to the black SUV.
Then Dominic.
Then Sophia.
Then Lily.
Harold’s eyebrows lifted.
“Who is this?”
Before Sophia could answer, Lily shouted:
“This is Mr. Dominic!”
Then, after one devastating pause:
“He might become Mommy’s boyfriend.”
Sophia nearly dropped her bag.
Dominic closed his eyes.
Her father’s face changed.
Her sister Emma, standing ten feet away in a bridal robe, started laughing so hard she had to grab the doorframe.
Sophia whispered:
“I’m going to disappear.”
Dominic looked down at her.
“No.”
His mouth curved.
“You’re going to survive lunch.”
She stared at him.
Then something moved near the road.
A dark sedan.
Parked too long.
Marco saw it at the same time.
His expression sharpened.
Dominic’s smile vanished.
“What?”
Sophia asked.
“Nothing.”
“That face is not nothing.”
Marco quietly touched his earpiece.
The sedan pulled away.
Dominic watched until it disappeared.
Then turned back toward Sophia.
“Stay near me.”
Her spine stiffened.
“You promised—”
“This is different.”
“Why?”
His jaw tightened.
“Because that car belongs to a company Victor Romano uses.”
May you like
The wedding had not even started.
And somehow the trouble Dominic claimed would not concern Sophia had followed them all the way into her mother’s final family weekend.
Related Stories
