Chapter 10 - The Pretend Love That Became the Only Love She Ever Needed
Five years later, I still remembered the first words I had spoken to Dominic Costantini.
Act like you love me, please.
Sometimes I wondered what would have happened if I hadn't said them.
Maybe I would have left the casino alone.
Maybe Mason would have followed me.
Maybe I would have continued working double shifts and believing I owed the world for mistakes that weren't mine.
Maybe I would never have learned the truth about my father.
Maybe my mother's story would have remained hidden.
Maybe Dominic would have continued living behind walls and guns and silence.
Maybe none of us would have found the family we built.
But I did say them.
And he answered.
Our life wasn't perfect.
It was real.
There were difficult days.
There were court cases.
There were nightmares.
There were mornings when Dominic woke up believing somebody was outside.
There were nights when I still checked the locks twice.
Healing didn't happen because the danger disappeared.
Healing happened because we stopped facing it alone.
Rose grew into a bright little girl who believed her father could fix anything.
She was mostly right.
One Saturday morning, she ran into the kitchen.
“Mom!”
I turned.
“What?”
“Dad burned breakfast again.”
I laughed.
“Where is he?”
“In the kitchen.”
I walked in.
Dominic stood over a pan.
Smoke filled the room.
He looked at me.
“It wasn't supposed to do that.”
I laughed.
“You've been making eggs for five years.”
“I'm experimenting.”
“With fire?”
“Yes.”
Rose giggled.
I walked toward him.
He wrapped his arms around my waist.
“I made coffee.”
“You made coffee?”
“Yes.”
I took a sip.
It was terrible.
I stared at him.
He stared back.
“It's good.”
“Liar.”
“I'm trying.”
I kissed him.
“That's all that matters.”
Rose groaned.
“You two are doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Being gross.”
Dominic laughed.
I smiled.
This was our life.
Simple.
Ordinary.
Beautiful.
That afternoon, we visited my father's grave.
I brought flowers.
Dominic stood beside me.
Rose placed a drawing on the stone.
It was a picture of four people holding hands.
My father.
My mother.
Me.
Dominic.
I cried.
Dominic squeezed my hand.
“He would be proud.”
“I think so.”
We stood there quietly.
The wind moved through the trees.
For years, I had been angry with my father.
Then confused.
Then heartbroken.
Eventually, I forgave him.
Not because everything he did was right.
Because I finally understood the fear behind his choices.
He had made mistakes.
So had my mother.
So had Dominic.
So had I.
But mistakes didn't have to become a destiny.
We returned home before sunset.
Rose ran ahead.
Dominic stayed beside me.
“You happy?”
I looked at him.
“More than I ever imagined.”
He smiled.
“Good.”
I stopped.
“Dominic.”
“Yes?”
“Do you remember the first night?”
“The casino?”
“Yes.”
“I remember everything.”
I smiled.
“I was terrified.”
“So was I.”
“You?”
He laughed.
“I had no idea what to do with you.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“What changed?”
He took my hand.
“You asked me to pretend.”
“And?”
“I realized I didn't want to pretend.”
He pulled me closer.
“I wanted every single word to be true.”
I kissed him.
The city lights came on behind us.
Chicago was still Chicago.
The streets were loud.
The trains were late.
The wind was cold.
Life wasn't magical.
It was simply ours.
Later that night, after Rose fell asleep, I found Dominic sitting by the window.
He held the old photograph.
The one containing our parents.
I sat beside him.
“What are you thinking?”
“That all of this started because you needed me to lie.”
I laughed.
“I needed a fake boyfriend.”
“You got a husband.”
“An expensive upgrade.”
He smiled.
“Worth it?”
I looked at him.
“Absolutely.”
He kissed my forehead.
Then reached for my hand.
I noticed something small.
A new ring.
Not an engagement ring.
A tiny silver band.
“What is that?”
He looked embarrassed.
“I had it made.”
“For me?”
“Yes.”
I read the engraving.
Little Bird.
My eyes filled with tears.
“You're ridiculous.”
“I know.”
I hugged him.
For years, people had told stories about Dominic Costantini.
Some called him a criminal.
Some called him a monster.
Some called him a king.
But none of those names mattered to me.
I knew the man who sat beside a hospital bed while my mother recovered.
I knew the man who held our daughter at three in the morning.
I knew the man who burned pasta and pretended it was intentional.
I knew the man who could command an entire room with one glance but lowered his voice whenever he spoke to me.
And I knew something else.
The most dangerous man in Chicago had once been a stranger at a roulette table.
The poor waitress who grabbed his sleeve had asked him for one favor.
Pretend you love me.
He had pretended for less than five minutes.
Then he spent the rest of his life proving it was never pretend.
I thought about the woman I had been when I entered the casino.
Broke.
Exhausted.
Afraid.
Convinced that love meant owing someone.
Now I understood.
Real love didn't keep score.
It didn't demand repayment.
It didn't make you smaller.
It didn't hurt you and call the pain proof of devotion.
Real love made room for you to breathe.
It held your hand without trapping it.
It stood beside you without owning you.
It protected you without asking you to disappear.
Dominic taught me that.
And I taught him something too.
A man could survive a violent world and still choose tenderness.
A family could begin with broken people.
A future could be built after the past burned everything down.
And sometimes the person you think is saving you is actually the person helping you save yourself.
One evening, years after the casino, Rose asked me how her father and I met.
I looked at Dominic.
He smiled.
“Tell her.”
So I did.
I told her about the roulette table.
The casino lights.
The terrified waitress.
The dangerous stranger.
The fake boyfriend.
She laughed.
“You asked Dad to pretend to love you?”
“Yes.”
She looked horrified.
“Why?”
“Because I was scared.”
“Were you scared of Dad?”
I smiled.
“No.”
“Then who?”
I looked at Dominic.
“My past.”
She thought about it.
Then climbed into my lap.
“Did Dad save you?”
I hugged her.
“He helped.”
“And you saved him?”
I looked at Dominic.
He nodded.
“Yes.”
Rose smiled.
“Then you saved each other.”
I kissed her forehead.
“Yes.”
That was the truth.
Not that a rich Mafia boss rescued a poor woman.
Not that a waitress changed the heart of a dangerous man.
Not that a toxic ex lost the woman he thought he owned.
The truth was simpler.
Two damaged people met at exactly the wrong time.
They were both afraid.
They both carried secrets.
They both believed they had to survive alone.
And somehow, by accident, they learned how to live together.
The casino was eventually sold.
The roulette table disappeared.
The empire was dismantled.
The names of the powerful men connected to Adrian Vale faded from newspapers.
The old world ended.
And another world began.
A quieter one.
A better one.
A world where Dominic could walk through a grocery store without a dozen men following him.
A world where I could wear my hospital badge without wondering who might use my name against me.
A world where Rose could grow up never knowing what her father had once been.
A world where my mother could sit in her garden and finally sleep peacefully.
A world where Mason could build a life that belonged to him instead of his father's shadow.
Not everyone got a perfect ending.
But we got something better.
A true one.
Years later, I returned to the roulette table once.
It had been preserved in a private collection.
I placed my hand on the green felt.
I could almost hear the music.
Almost feel my pulse.
Almost remember that terrified girl staring across the room at the man who looked like danger itself.
Dominic stood beside me.
“What are you remembering?”
“The beginning.”
He took my hand.
“You know what I remember?”
“What?”
“You grabbed my sleeve.”
I smiled.
“And you saved me.”
“No.”
He kissed my forehead.
“You saved me first.”
I looked at him.
Then at our daughter waiting by the door.
Then at the life we had built.
The words came naturally now.
No fear.
No pretending.
No debt.
No conditions.
“I love you.”
He smiled.
“I know.”
I laughed.
“Say it back.”
“I love you too.”
And this time, there was no audience.
No toxic ex.
No gun.
No casino.
No reason to pretend.
Only two people who had begun with a lie and somehow found the truth.
The woman who once begged a stranger to act like he loved her became the woman that stranger loved for the rest of his life.
And the Mafia boss who had spent years believing power was the only thing worth protecting discovered that the greatest power in his life had never been money, fear, or control.
It was love.
Their story began with a desperate whisper at a roulette table.
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It ended with a family gathered around one table, laughing together, safe at last.
The End
