Chapter 3 - The Man Behind the Fear
The charity gala was held at the Boston Harbor Hotel.
I had never been inside.
I had seen the building from buses.
That was different.
Inside, everything glittered.
Crystal lights.
Black suits.
Silk dresses.
Waiters carrying champagne.
I wore a navy dress Rosie had found at a thrift store.
Dominic met me at the entrance.
He was wearing black.
His hand went briefly to my back as we entered.
I stiffened.
He noticed.
“Sorry.”
He removed his hand.
I looked at him.
“Thank you.”
“I don't want you uncomfortable.”
“You could start by telling me why I'm here.”
He nodded.
“There are three men attending this gala who work with the people watching you.”
“Then why bring me?”
“Because hiding you won't solve the problem.”
“What will?”
“Showing them you aren't afraid.”
“I am afraid.”
“So am I.”
I stared.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“Of what?”
He looked at me.
“Losing someone I don't want to lose.”
My heart skipped.
Before I could answer, a woman approached.
Elegant.
Blonde.
Beautiful.
She kissed Dominic's cheek.
“Darling.”
I looked away.
The woman turned to me.
“And you are?”
“Emma.”
She smiled.
“How lovely.”
Dominic said, “Vanessa, this is Emma Morgan.”
Vanessa's smile froze.
“I see.”
I didn't like the way she said it.
Dominic noticed.
“Enjoy the evening.”
Vanessa walked away.
“Who was that?”
“Someone from my past.”
“Girlfriend?”
“No.”
“She looked like she wanted to be.”
“She wants many things.”
I laughed.
Then I realized he was serious.
Dinner began.
We sat at a round table with twelve people.
Dominic barely touched his food.
He watched the room.
“Do you ever relax?”
“With you.”
The answer came so quickly that I stopped.
He looked almost annoyed with himself.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You're terrible at pretending.”
“So are you.”
He smiled.
During dessert, a man approached.
I recognized him.
The gray-coat stranger from the diner.
Dominic immediately stood.
“Don't.”
The man smiled.
“Dominic.”
“Leave.”
“I only want to talk.”
“You had your chance.”
The man looked at me.
“You should know something.”
Dominic stepped between us.
“He doesn't talk to you.”
The stranger laughed.
“That's exactly the problem. She doesn't know what you are.”
I looked at Dominic.
The stranger continued.
“She thinks you saved her.”
“Enough.”
“Ask him about the fire.”
My heart raced.
“What about the fire?”
The stranger looked delighted.
“Ask him why he was driving through a neighborhood where he had no business being.”
Dominic's face hardened.
The man walked away.
I turned.
“You told me you were attacked.”
“I was.”
“Why were you there?”
“Because I was meeting someone.”
“Who?”
He didn't answer.
“Dominic.”
He looked at me.
“Someone who betrayed me.”
“Who?”
“My uncle.”
The word landed heavily.
He finally told me.
Three weeks earlier, Dominic had discovered that someone inside his organization was selling information.
His uncle Carlo.
The man who raised him after his father died.
Carlo had arranged the attack.
The fire had been intended to kill Dominic.
The stranger at the diner had been one of Carlo's men.
I looked at Dominic.
“And now?”
“Carlo is gone.”
“Dead?”
“No.”
“In hiding?”
“Yes.”
“Then why am I still in danger?”
“Because he thinks you are important to me.”
I swallowed.
“Are you saying I'm a weakness?”
Dominic shook his head.
“No.”
He leaned closer.
“You're the first thing in my life that doesn't feel like a transaction.”
I didn't know what to say.
He continued.
“I know what my world does to people. I won't drag you into it.”
“You already did.”
“I know.”
He looked ashamed.
That surprised me more than anything.
The next morning, Lily's school called.
Someone had tried to pick her up.
They had used my full name.
Only one problem.
The school had no record of that person.
My heart stopped.
I raced there.
Dominic was already waiting.
I ran to Lily.
She was safe.
She hugged me.
Then I saw Dominic.
He knelt beside us.
“Are you okay?”
Lily nodded.
“They said they were your friends.”
Dominic's face became cold.
“Who?”
She pointed.
“Those two men.”
Across the street, two strangers disappeared into a car.
Dominic stood.
His men moved.
“Stay with Lily.”
I watched him walk away.
Ten minutes later, he returned.
He was silent.
“What happened?”
“They were working for Carlo.”
My stomach twisted.
“What do we do?”
“Move.”
“No.”
“Emma.”
“No more hiding.”
He looked at me.
“What do you want?”
“The truth.”
“You can't handle it.”
“You don't know that.”
“I do.”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“You keep deciding what I can survive.”
He stared.
Then he nodded.
“Fine.”
That evening, he took me to his house.
Not the headquarters.
Not the glamorous penthouse I had imagined.
A quiet old mansion outside the city.
There were photographs everywhere.
His parents.
His childhood.
His father.
His mother.
And one photograph that stopped me.
Dominic at seventeen.
Standing beside a girl.
“Who is she?”
“My sister.”
I looked at him.
“I thought you were an only child.”
“I was.”
I stared.
He swallowed.
“She died the same night as my father.”
His voice cracked.
That was the first time I saw the boy beneath the man.
“She was sixteen.”
“What happened?”
“A fire.”
Another fire.
Another loss.
Dominic looked at the photograph.
“I couldn't save her.”
I took his hand.
He looked down.
Neither of us moved.
Finally he whispered,
“You saved me.”
I squeezed his fingers.
“Then let me remind you what being alive feels like.”
May you like
His eyes lifted.
And for the first time, neither of us pretended this was just protection.
