The elevator hummed as it climbed the final floors of the glass tower, smooth and silent, but Elena's heart beat wildly in her chest. She hadn't been here since before everything fell apart. Before Isabella. Before the threats. Before Dominic had whisked her away to that isolated coastal home to keep her and their child alive.
Now, the doors opened with a soft chime, and the world seemed to pause.
Elena stepped out first, Dominic's hand at the small of her back. She froze.
The penthouse wasn't the cold, imposing lair she remembered. The vast space had been transformed. The air was warm with the scent of roses, petals scattered across the polished floor like a path. Candles glowed along the edges of the room, casting soft golden light against the high windows. And in the center of it all—framed by the skyline glittering through the glass—stood a table with two flutes of champagne, unopened, waiting.
Elena's lips parted. "Dominic…"
Her voice trembled, and she turned to look at him, but he wasn't standing beside her anymore.
He was kneeling.
The man who had commanded fear from kings and criminals alike, who had carved empires with blood and iron, was on one knee before her. His dark suit caught the glow of the candles, but his eyes—those sharp, merciless eyes—were unguarded. Raw.
"Elena Romano ," Dominic said, his voice steady but heavy with emotion. "You've seen the worst of me. You've stood in fire, in blood, in shadows I never wanted to drag you into. And still… you stayed. You loved me. You carried my child when the world wanted to tear us apart."
Tears blurred her vision. She covered her mouth with her hand.
Dominic drew a small black box from his jacket and opened it. Inside, a ring caught the candlelight—platinum and diamond, cold and brilliant, like the man himself, yet softened into something achingly beautiful.
"I don't deserve you," he continued, his jaw tightening. "But I will spend the rest of my life making sure you never doubt how much you mean to me. You, Elena. You are my home. You are my absolution. You are the only thing that makes this godforsaken life worth living."
Her tears spilled over, rolling hot down her cheeks.
"Marry me," he said, his voice breaking. "Be my wife. Be the mother of my child, my partner, my everything. Please, Elena. Say yes."
Elena's hand trembled as she reached for him, cupping his face. The diamond shimmered between them. She laughed through her tears, shaking her head in disbelief.
"You arrogant, impossible man," she whispered. "You think I could ever say no to you?"
His eyes flashed with relief, with fire, with something dangerously close to desperation.
"Yes?"
"Yes," she cried, nodding furiously. "Yes, Dominic Moretti. A thousand times, yes."
He surged upward, pulling her into his arms, his mouth crushing hers in a kiss that stole her breath. She clung to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders, as though the world could crumble around them and she would never let go.
When he finally drew back, his forehead pressed to hers, his voice was hoarse. "You'll never regret this."
"I already don't," she whispered.
He slipped the ring onto her finger, his hands trembling just slightly—though she would never tell him she noticed. She held it up, watching it catch the light, and laughed softly through her tears.
"It's perfect."
"No," he said, his lips brushing her temple. "You're perfect. This is just proof you're mine."
She laughed again, leaning into his chest, her tears dampening his shirt. He held her there, strong arms wrapped around her, as though nothing could reach them now.
For a moment, it was just them. The world outside didn't exist. Isabella was gone. The threats were buried. Valerie's hatred lingered in silence, but even that couldn't reach them here. For the first time in what felt like forever, Elena allowed herself to believe.
They were home.
Dominic hadn't let go of her since the moment she said yes. His hands stayed on Elena's waist, his lips ghosting her forehead, her temple, her fingers—anywhere he could touch, as though he still couldn't quite believe she was real, here, his fiancée.
But the moment didn't stay private for long.
The sharp chime of the private elevator broke through the silence, and both turned their heads just as the doors slid open.
Jay and Tobias stepped in first, followed by a few of Dominic's most trusted men. At first, they looked cautious, prepared for orders, their hands brushing the edges of concealed weapons. Then they saw the petals. The candles. And the glimmering diamond on Elena Rossetti's hand.
The room froze.
"Elena?" Tobias blinked, then glanced at Dominic, his eyes widening. "Wait. Did he just—"
propose?" Jay finished, his slow grin spreading as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Looks like hell just froze over."
Dominic gave them a look sharp enough to cut glass, but it was too late. The men erupted.
"About damn time, Boss!" one called.
"She finally said yes to your brooding ass?" another laughed.
"Someone open the champagne before he changes his mind," Tobias added, already striding to the bar with a grin.
Elena laughed, flushed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Dominic's hand tightened around her waist like a silent warning to them all, but there was no hiding the faint curve at his lips.
Jay clapped him hard on the back. "You've commanded empires, boss , but I think this is the first real victory you've ever had."
Dominic growled, but Elena squeezed his hand. "Take it as a compliment," she whispered.
The next hour blurred into celebration. Champagne corks popped. Glasses clinked. The men, hardened killers with scars and shadows etched into their faces, softened before her. They toasted to Elena, not just to their boss.
"To Mrs. Moretti," Tobias announced with a smirk, raising his glass high. "The only one who can tell him to sit down and actually get away with it."
Laughter rippled across the room. Dominic scowled, but Elena only grinned, leaning against his arm.
"To Elena," Jay followed, his voice steadier, more serious. "For giving this bastard something worth living for."
The cheer that followed was loud, unrestrained. Even Dominic didn't argue this time.
Later that Night
The celebration had died down, the penthouse quiet again. The men had filtered out, leaving behind half-empty glasses and echoes of laughter. Dominic was still by the window, staring out over the city, phone in hand, already back in his world of calls and shadows.
Elena sat on the couch, one hand resting absentmindedly over her stomach. She smiled at the small swell beneath her palm, her mind replaying the sound of the baby's heartbeat from the ultrasound that morning.
She slipped the folded black-and-white printout from her purse. The tiny, grainy image felt like the most powerful thing she had ever held.
Her eyes softened. Valerie.
Tobias?" she whispered.
He was clearing the bar, stacking empty glasses. He glanced up, eyebrows raised.
"Can I ask you something?"
He stilled, watching her carefully. "Anything."
"I need Valerie's address."
Tobias frowned. "That's… not an easy request. Dominic—"
"—doesn't have to know," Elena cut in softly, her voice low but steady. She held up the ultrasound. "Please. This isn't about him. This is about family. About our child."
Tobias's gaze dropped to the picture. He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "You don't make things simple, do you?"
She smiled faintly. "Would Dominic love me if I did?"
That earned her a reluctant chuckle. "Fair point."
Within the hour, Tobias returned with a small envelope and paper. Elena sat at the kitchen island, pen in hand, chewing her lip as she wrote.
Elena folded the note carefully, slipping it into the envelope along with the ultrasound. Tobias watched in silence, his usual smirk softened into something unreadable.
"You sure about this?" he asked quietly.
She nodded. "Some bridges don't have to be rebuilt. But sometimes… you can send a light across the gap."
Tobias didn't argue. He just tucked the envelope into his jacket and said, "I'll make sure it gets there."