Elena…" His voice was lower than usual, almost hesitant. That wasn't like him. Dominic Moretti didn't hesitate. He commanded, he demanded, he ordered. But tonight, he was a man carrying something heavy.
Her eyes lifted to him, soft, questioning. "What is it?"
He stepped closer, sitting beside her. His hand brushed her knee, thumb grazing gently as though grounding himself before he spoke. "It's over."
She blinked. "What do you mean?"
"Isabella." His jaw clenched, then relaxed. "She's dead."
Elena's lips parted, but no words came at first. The name itself carried shadows. Isabella had been a constant looming threat, venomous and ruthless. For weeks, Elena had felt the weight of her presence like a hand around her throat.
Dead. The word didn't feel real.
"How?" she whispered, her grip on her cup tightening.
Dominic shook his head, staring straight ahead for a moment before meeting her gaze. "Valerie."
Elena's breath hitched. She had never spoken directly to Dominic's sister, but she knew enough. Knew the history, the bitterness, the scars that ran deeper than blood.
"She did it," he continued, voice heavy. "Not for me. Not for us. But for the baby. She didn't want an innocent life caught in the crossfire."
Elena swallowed hard, her palm smoothing over her stomach. "So she's gone. For good."
Dominic's hand came up to cup her cheek, firm but tender. "For good."
The silence that followed wasn't empty. It was filled with relief, the kind that weighed heavy before it lifted like chains snapping off. Elena exhaled shakily, leaning into his touch. "I can finally… breathe."
He kissed her temple. "That's all I want. For you to breathe. For you and our child to be safe."
She smiled faintly, though her eyes glistened. "Our child," she repeated softly, as though reminding herself it was real.
Dominic leaned down until his forehead rested against hers. "You don't know what those words do to me, Elena"
She laughed quietly, a fragile sound but warm. "I think I do."
They sat like that for a while—foreheads touching, breaths mingling, the world shrinking to just the two of them and the fragile promise growing inside her.
Finally, Dominic broke the quiet. "We're going back."
Her brows furrowed. "Back?"
"To the penthouse," he said, tone certain now. "The threats are gone. Isabella's army is in shambles. And your pregnancy—" His thumb slid over her hand resting on her belly. "The doctors say it's stable. We can go home."
Elena searched his face. Home. The penthouse wasn't just a fortress of marble and glass—it was the first place she had learned what it meant to belong to Dominic beyond fear, beyond danger. It was where their story had started to shift from violence into something deeper.
Her lips curved slowly. "Home sounds… nice."
Home means stability," he added, almost as though convincing himself. "Routine. Comfort. Everything you need. No more running. No more hiding."
She tilted her head, teasing lightly, "And what about you? Do you get comfort out of all that?"
He smirked faintly, the dangerous edge softening for just her. "Comfort? No. But I get peace knowing you're not looking over your shoulder. That's enough."
Her heart twisted, full and aching. "You'd really do anything for me, wouldn't you?"
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he kissed her lips softly, then murmured against her mouth, "I already have."
Elena's hand slipped up to his cheek, pulling him back for another kiss, slower, sweeter. The kind that wasn't about hunger or fire but about home.
When they pulled apart, she whispered, "Then let's go back."
Dominic exhaled, something like relief flashing in his eyes. "Tomorrow. We'll leave at first light."
She leaned against his chest, hearing the steady thud of his heart. "Tomorrow," she echoed.
The following morning came bright and golden, sunlight spilling through the tall glass doors of the vacation home. Elena woke to the rustle of movement, her hand instinctively reaching for the space beside her. Empty.
"Dominic?"
"Here." His voice came from across the room. He stood already dressed, crisp shirt rolled at the sleeves, gun holstered against his hip as though danger could appear even on the peaceful coast. He turned when he heard her voice, and for a moment, his sharpness softened.
"You should sleep more."
She pushed herself up, brushing a strand of dark hair from her face. "You're impossible. Do you ever stop?"
Dominic crossed the room, kneeling on the edge of the bed so his hand could cup her cheek. His thumb traced the faint shadow beneath her eye. "Not when it comes to you. Or the baby."
Her lips curved. "You're going to smother us."
"Good," he said without hesitation, leaning closer. "I'd rather smother you with protection than risk losing either of you."
Her chest warmed at his words, though she rolled her eyes to mask the way her heart fluttered. "You're dramatic."
"You knew that before you fell in love with me," he countered smoothly.
She laughed softly, shaking her head. "I must've been insane."
His smirk widened, but instead of replying, he kissed her, deep and slow, until she forgot the world existed beyond his arms. When he pulled back, his voice was low, rough. "Get dressed, Elena .We're going home."
The drive into the city was a strange blend of silence and unspoken weight. The black SUV ate up miles of highway, Dominic's men tailing them at a discreet distance. Dominic drove himself, refusing to trust anyone else with Elena's safety. His hand rarely left hers, resting atop her thigh when the road was clear.
Elena gazed out the window, watching the scenery shift from open coastline to the steel and glass skyline of the city. "It feels strange," she admitted. "Like we're stepping back into another life."
Dominic glanced at her. "Not another life. The continuation of this one."
She smiled faintly. "You always have a way of twisting words to sound like fate."
He squeezed her hand. "Because fate doesn't scare me. Losing you does."
Her throat tightened. She turned her palm to lace her fingers with his. "You won't lose me, Dominic. I promise you that."
For a long moment, neither spoke. The hum of the engine and the low music playing through the speakers filled the air. Elena rested her head back against the seat, her hand still resting on her belly.
Dominic's eyes flicked toward the gesture, and his grip on the wheel tightened. "Every time you do that," he said quietly, "I want to drive faster. Get you both somewhere untouchable."
"Somewhere safe?" she teased gently.
"Safe doesn't cut it," he muttered. "I need more than safe. I need untouchable."
She turned her head toward him, studying the sharp lines of his face. "You're already giving me more than I ever thought I'd have. A home. A family. You."
The muscle in his jaw flexed, but his eyes softened when they met hers. "You make me believe in things I never thought I'd deserve."
She reached over, brushing her fingers along his stubbled cheek. "You deserve all of this, Dominic. You deserve love. You deserve peace. Even if you don't believe it yet."
His hand left the wheel briefly, bringing her knuckles to his lips. He kissed them reverently. "If peace exists, it's only with you."
Her heart swelled, and she couldn't stop the smile that spread across her lips. "You're actually being romantic right now. Should I be worried?"
His smirk returned, dark and playful. "You'll have more reason to worry when we get home."
Heat rose to her cheeks, but she leaned back against the seat with a soft laugh. The tension between them melted into something lighter, sweeter. For once, the city ahead didn't feel like a threat. It felt like the next step in their story.
As the skyline loomed larger, Dominic slowed the car, his hand tightening on hers once more. "Elena."
"Hmm?"
He exhaled, his eyes flicking between her and the road. "Whatever happens next, you need to know something."
Her brows lifted. "What?"
"I'm never letting you go. Not you, not the baby. No matter what comes. No enemies, no past, no ghosts." His voice deepened, resolute. "You're mine. Both of you."
Her heart fluttered, her throat thick with emotion. She leaned closer, whispering, "Then take us home, Dominic."
And with that, the SUV rolled into the heart of the city—toward the penthouse that waited like a silent witness to the life they were about to begin again.