Chapter 2 - The Bride Who Refused to Break
The cathedral emptied under armed escort.
Priests disappeared through side doors.
Politicians were rushed into black SUVs.
Capos made nervous phone calls.
Tommy Higgins was taken downstairs under guard.
And Clara remained standing beside the altar while Dominic stared at the blood beneath her gown.
Eventually, Vincent approached.
“Boss.”
Dominic looked at him.
“Call Dr. Moretti.”
“He's already on his way.”
“Tell him no hospital.”
Vincent hesitated.
“You want him to operate here?”
“I want him to tell me how close she is to losing the leg.”
Clara looked at Dominic.
“I don't need surgery.”
Dominic's expression hardened.
“You don't get to decide that while you're bleeding.”
“I've been bleeding for weeks.”
The room went still.
Dominic stared at her.
“Weeks?”
Clara nodded.
“The bullet shattered part of the knee. There was no surgeon.”
“Why?”
“Because I couldn't go to a hospital.”
“Why?”
“Because they were watching.”
Dominic's eyes narrowed.
“Who?”
“I don't know all of them.”
“Then tell me what you do know.”
Clara shook her head.
“Not here.”
Dominic glanced around the cathedral.
She was right.
Too many ears.
He leaned toward Vincent.
“Empty the building.”
Within minutes, they stood alone except for security.
Dr. Moretti arrived through the side entrance carrying a medical bag.
He was sixty-two, a respected orthopedic surgeon who had treated Castiglione soldiers after wars the newspapers called business disputes.
He took one look at Clara's leg and swore softly.
“How long?”
“Twenty-three days,” Clara answered.
The doctor looked at Dominic.
“She shouldn't be walking.”
“She had to,” Dominic said.
The doctor cut away the makeshift brace.
Clara gripped the edge of the pew.
Dominic expected her to scream.
She didn't.
She closed her eyes.
Her fingers trembled.
Dominic watched.
For the first time in his life, pain made him feel helpless.
He had money.
Men.
Weapons.
Influence.
None of it could stop Clara's face from tightening when the brace came loose.
Dr. Moretti examined the wound.
“There is infection.”
Dominic's jaw clenched.
“Can you fix it?”
“Probably.”
“Probably?”
“If the infection hasn't reached the bone.”
“Do it.”
The doctor glanced at Clara.
“It will hurt.”
She opened her eyes.
“I know.”
“Then we're doing this here.”
Dominic took off his jacket and placed it beneath Clara's shoulders when she was moved onto a temporary medical table.
He never left.
For two hours he stood beside her.
When she finally woke from sedation, she found him in a chair.
His tie was gone.
His sleeves were rolled up.
His knuckles were stained with blood.
Not hers.
Tommy's.
Clara looked around.
“Where am I?”
“My private residence.”
“You brought me here?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Dominic stared at her.
“Because you are my wife.”
She looked at him.
“No.”
Dominic said nothing.
“The contract says that.”
“Yes.”
“It doesn't make me yours.”
His expression changed.
“No.”
Clara blinked.
“No?”
“You're right.”
He stood.
“You don't belong to me.”
She studied him.
“I don't?”
“No.”
He looked toward the window.
“I'm beginning to understand that I never had the right to think you did.”
Clara turned her head.
“Then why am I here?”
“Because someone shot you.”
“That happens in your world.”
“It happened because of my family.”
Clara was quiet.
Dominic walked closer.
“Tell me about Sophia.”
Clara looked down.
“I met her before she disappeared.”
“How?”
“She came to the motel where I worked.”
Dominic frowned.
“What motel?”
“The South Halsted Motor Inn.”
Dominic remembered it.
One of the few independent motels left in an area controlled by rival crews.
“What was Sophia doing there?”
“She needed a place where nobody would find her.”
“Why?”
“She had discovered something.”
“What?”
Clara looked at him.
“Women were being moved through your freight routes.”
Dominic's expression darkened.
“What kind of women?”
“Girls who had disappeared from shelters.”
He went silent.
Castiglione freight companies moved thousands of legitimate shipments every month.
If someone had been using them for human trafficking, it could destroy everything.
“Did Sophia know?”
“Yes.”
“And she came to you?”
“She knew I had been helping women leave violent situations.”
Dominic frowned.
“You worked at a motel.”
“I worked two jobs.”
“What was the other?”
“Night assistant at a community shelter.”
Dominic stared.
He had never known.
Tommy had described her as a quiet maid.
He had never bothered to investigate.
Clara continued.
“Sophia brought Matteo with her.”
Dominic's breath caught.
“He was there?”
“Yes.”
“How was he?”
“Terrified.”
Dominic closed his eyes.
“Was he hurt?”
“Not then.”
“What happened?”
“Sophia found out that someone inside your family was selling routes.”
“Who?”
“She didn't know.”
Clara reached toward the bedside table.
Dominic handed her water.
“She gave me the ribbon.”
“Why?”
“She told me that if something happened to her, the ribbon would be proof that she had been with me.”
Dominic looked toward the blue ribbon, now sealed in a plastic evidence bag.
“What happened next?”
“Three men came looking for her.”
“Descriptions?”
“One was tall. One had a scar through his eyebrow. One limped.”
Dominic's eyes narrowed.
“Security footage?”
“They destroyed the cameras.”
“Police?”
“She didn't trust them.”
“Then how did she escape?”
“We didn't.”
Clara's voice dropped.
“They caught us.”
Dominic's entire body stiffened.
“Who?”
“I never saw their faces.”
“What happened?”
“They took Sophia and Matteo.”
“Why are you alive?”
“Because I fought.”
She looked toward her leg.
“One of them shot me.”
Dominic stared.
“And they left you?”
“No.”
Clara swallowed.
“Sophia gave me a chance to run.”
Dominic's voice became hoarse.
“She saved you.”
Clara nodded.
“She said you would come.”
He looked at her.
“She believed you would find her.”
Dominic sat beside the bed.
“What else did she say?”
Clara hesitated.
“She said not to trust your father.”
Dominic's face changed.
“My father is dead.”
“I know.”
“He died seven years ago.”
Clara nodded.
“She said the people controlling your family were using his name.”
Dominic stared at the floor.
His father's death had always been strange.
A sudden heart attack.
No autopsy requested by the family.
Rafael had handled everything.
Dominic had been twenty-seven.
He had trusted his uncle.
Now every memory felt poisoned.
His phone rang.
Vincent.
Dominic answered.
“We found Tommy's financial records.”
“And?”
“The payment came through a company connected to Rafael.”
Dominic closed his eyes.
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
Vincent hesitated.
“One account transferred money to a private airfield three days after Sophia disappeared.”
Dominic stood.
“Whose airfield?”
“Rafael's.”
The room became silent.
Clara watched him.
“There's more,” Vincent said.
“What?”
“A second transfer.”
“To where?”
Vincent's voice dropped.
“The Wisconsin border.”
Dominic looked at Clara.
She understood.
Sophia could still be alive.
Dominic ended the call.
Clara whispered,
“You believe me now?”
He walked toward her.
“I believe you.”
She nodded.
“I don't know what happens after this.”
Dominic looked into her eyes.
“Neither do I.”
Then he made a decision that would change the Castiglione family forever.
He took the wedding contract from his pocket.
Clara watched as he tore it in half.
Then in half again.
And again.
The pieces fell into the wastebasket.
“You're free.”
Clara stared at him.
“You just destroyed the agreement.”
“Yes.”
“Your debt?”
“I'll deal with Tommy.”
“My obligation?”
“Doesn't exist.”
She looked at him for a long time.
“Why?”
Dominic answered honestly.
“Because I don't want a wife who belongs to me.”
He paused.
“I want to know the woman who walked down that aisle.”
Clara's eyes filled with tears.
“I might never forgive you.”
“I know.”
“I might leave as soon as I can walk.”
“I know.”
“I might hate your entire family.”
“You have every reason.”
Clara took a breath.
“And you?”
Dominic looked at the torn contract.
“I think I already hate what I became.”
For the first time, Clara smiled.
May you like
Not because she was happy.
Because she believed him.
