Chapter 6 - THE NIGHT I ALMOST LOST EVERYTHING
The bullet passed through my shoulder.
Painful.
Bloody.
Not fatal.
Elena disagreed with the phrase “not fatal.”
She sat beside my hospital bed with crossed arms.
“You nearly died.”
“I didn’t.”
“That is not a defense.”
“The doctor said—”
“The doctor also said you were lucky.”
“I’m often lucky.”
“You were kidnapped before age twelve, shot twice before thirty, stabbed in Queens, and now shot by your uncle.”
I frowned.
“How do you know about Queens?”
“Marco talks.”
“Marco needs a new job.”
She almost smiled.
Almost.
Then her face softened.
“You stepped in front of me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I stared at her.
“Really?”
“I want you to say it.”
That terrified me more than Salvatore’s gun.
“Because I love you.”
Silence.
I had never said those words to a woman.
Not since my mother died.
Elena’s eyes filled.
“You don’t have to say it because I said it first.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re drugged.”
“I was shot in the shoulder, not the brain.”
“Debatable.”
I reached for her hand.
She let me take it.
“I love you.”
Her tears fell.
“I love Sofia.”
More tears.
“And that scares me more than any man I’ve ever fought.”
She leaned over and kissed me.
Carefully.
Softly.
When she pulled away, the door opened.
Sofia ran inside.
“DOMMY!”
A nurse chased her.
“I’m sorry!”
“It’s okay.”
Sofia stopped beside the bed.
Her eyes widened at the bandage.
“You got boo-boo.”
“Yes.”
“Mama kiss it?”
Elena covered her face.
The nurse tried not to laugh.
“No,” I said.
Sofia frowned.
“Mama kisses my boo-boos.”
“This one is different.”
“Why?”
“It has stitches.”
She considered that.
“Still kiss.”
Elena whispered:
“Your daughter is persistent.”
I looked at her.
“My daughter?”
Elena froze.
So did I.
Sofia didn’t.
“Yes.”
We both looked at her.
She climbed onto the bed.
I grunted.
“Careful.”
She placed Miss Rose beside my pillow.
“Dolly stay.”
Then she curled against my uninjured side.
Within five minutes she was asleep.
Elena watched us.
“She loves you.”
“I know.”
“That’s a big responsibility.”
“I know.”
“You can’t disappear into your world whenever things get difficult.”
“I know.”
“You can’t make promises you don’t mean.”
“I know.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Do you say anything else?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Marry me.”
Elena stared.
I immediately realized that might have been the worst proposal in New York history.
She blinked.
“You’re asking me to marry you while bleeding into hospital sheets?”
“Technically, the bleeding stopped.”
“Dominic.”
“Too soon?”
“Yes!”
I nodded.
“Fine.”
“You can’t just say fine.”
“I’ll ask later.”
She laughed.
“That’s not how this works.”
“Why?”
“Because normal people date.”
“I took you to dinner.”
“Once.”
“Twice.”
“The second time was at your house during a security meeting.”
“There was food.”
She started laughing.
Sofia stirred.
“Shhh.”
Elena covered her mouth.
I smiled.
Then Marco entered.
His expression killed the moment.
“What?”
“Salvatore is in custody.”
“Good.”
“Carlo too.”
“Why?”
“Several captains don’t trust him.”
“I do.”
Marco looked surprised.
“So do I,” Elena said.
Marco nodded.
“Then we have another problem.”
“What?”
“Vincent Colombo disappeared.”
I sat straighter.
Pain shot through my shoulder.
“Elena and Sofia escaped his warehouse. Salvatore failed. He knows the alliance collapsed.”
“He’ll run.”
“No.”
Marco looked grim.
“He sent a message.”
“What message?”
Marco handed me a photograph.
My mansion.
Smoke rising from one wing.
My blood went cold.
“When?”
“Twenty minutes ago.”
“Casualties?”
“Two guards wounded.”
I looked at Elena.
She understood.
Vincent had lost leverage.
Now he wanted revenge.
Marco continued.
“We found another message painted inside.”
“What?”
Three words.
NO MORE GIRLS.
Elena went pale.
Sofia remained sleeping between us.
Vincent wasn’t finished.
The Colombos would continue targeting them until either I surrendered or Vincent died.
For the first time, I seriously considered leaving New York.
Leaving everything.
The empire.
The family name.
All of it.
Elena saw it.
“What are you thinking?”
I looked at Sofia.
“Taking you somewhere nobody knows us.”
“And?”
“Never coming back.”
Marco stared.
“Dominic.”
I ignored him.
Elena asked:
“Would you?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
The answer shocked even me.
Twenty years building.
One second choosing.
Elena squeezed my hand.
“No.”
I frowned.
“No?”
“You don’t run.”
“I would for you.”
“I know.”
She looked toward Marco.
“But if you run, Colombo wins.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do.”
She touched my face.
“Sofia deserves safety.”
“Yes.”
“So do other people’s daughters.”
That sentence struck me.
She had understood my responsibility before I had.
If Vincent could take Sofia and survive, every rival would learn the same lesson.
If Salvatore’s betrayal went unanswered, internal loyalty would collapse.
This was no longer about revenge.
It was about ending the cycle.
Marco nodded slowly.
“We finish it.”
Elena looked at me.
“You finish it without becoming the monster they think you are.”
“That’s difficult.”
“I didn’t say easy.”
I smiled faintly.
Then Sofia woke.
“Dommy?”
“Yes.”
“Home?”
Soon, I thought.
A home where nobody could take you.
A home where men like Vincent could no longer use children as currency.
“Yes.”
I kissed the top of her head.
May you like
“We’re going home.”
But first, I had a war to end.
