Elena hummed softly to herself as she arranged the new baby clothes in the nursery. Tiny socks, soft blankets, little onesies that smelled of cotton and promise ,she folded each piece with care, her heart swelling with a happiness she never thought she'd feel. On the dresser sat a velvet box containing the jewelry Valerie had sent; Elena had placed it where the light could catch it, and sometimes she paused just to admire the sparkle, as though it was proof that peace could still exist in their world.
The sound of the front door shutting pulled her from her thoughts. She turned, and her heart clenched at the sight of Dominic walking in. His shoulders carried the weight of ten wars, his jaw tense, his eyes shadowed.
"Dom," she whispered, immediately abandoning the pile of clothes. She crossed the room quickly and wrapped her arms around him. His body was rigid against hers at first, but when she kissed his cheek and brushed her hand through his hair, she felt some of the tension melt.
"You're late," she murmured against him, trying to lighten his mood.
"Business," he muttered, but the word sounded like poison on his tongue.
Elena pulled back just enough to search his face. "You look… broken."
Dominic let out a bitter laugh and sank into the nearest chair, rubbing his temples. "I feel broken."
Elena sat on the arm of the chair and cupped his cheek. "Talk to me."
His eyes met hers, raw and sharp. "Emilio's been selling arms behind my back. For money. I have also been hearing rumors that someone is poaching my men and blackmailing them with dirts "
Her stomach tightened. "Dirt?"
"Blackmail," he spat. "My men… men I trusted… they're falling to him like flies. And the ones who refuse? He'll chew them up, leave them dead in alleys. I can feel it." He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, eyes burning with rage. "My empire is rotting from the inside out. Every time I walk into a room, I wonder who's already sold me."
Elena's heart ached, but she didn't flinch. She slid down to her knees before him, forcing him to look at her. Her hands caught his. "Then stop letting him dictate your empire's future. You built this, Dominic. Don't tell me you'll let some unkind enemy strip it from you."
His laugh was low, bitter. "It's not that simple. He's everywhere, Elena. I can't trust anyone anymore. Not my men, not the walls I've built."
"Then build new walls," she said firmly, her voice steady even as her pulse raced. "Pour concrete under the foundation. In secret. A team of your own choosing, one by one. No one else knows. Not Emilio, not your men, not even the ones closest to you."
He stilled, staring at her as though she had just handed him a weapon sharper than any blade.
"And if I can't trust anyone?" he asked hoarsely.
Her thumb brushed over his knuckles. "Then start with yourself."
Silence hung heavy. His chest rose and fell, every breath pulled taut with violence and fear.
Finally, he pulled her into his lap, his face burying against her neck. His voice was muffled but raw. "God, Elena. Sometimes I think you're the only one left who isn't playing me."
She stroked his hair gently. "That's because I don't want your empire, Dominic. I just want you."
He let out a sound caught between a laugh and a groan. "You don't know how dangerous that makes you, my love."
"Then let me be dangerous for you," she whispered, kissing the corner of his mouth.
For the first time in days, Dominic's arms tightened around her like she was an anchor in a storm. But the shadows didn't fully leave his eyes.
"Elena," he murmured. "If Emilio keeps moving like this, I'll have to kill him."
Her hand tightened around his shirt. "Killing him won't bring out the person , you need him to lure out the person directing them but for now watch until you've built your backup. Promise me you'll wait until you're untouchable."
He studied her for a long moment, then finally nodded once. "I promise."
She kissed him again, softly, until the bitterness on his lips turned into something else. When she pulled back, she guided his hand to rest on her stomach, over the life growing inside her.
"You're not alone," she reminded him.
Dominic took Elena's advice and moved to the study to begin the plan .
He dialed the first number.
"Caruso," Dominic said, voice low but firm. "You remember what you owed my father. I'm calling it in."
There was silence on the other end, then a rough exhale. "You'll have a hundred within the week."
One by one, the calls were made. Some were easy. Others required reminders of debts long buried. But by dawn, Dominic knew he had planted seeds of a new army loyal to him, not to the traitors that surrounded him.
When he finally left the study, his chest was tight with exhaustion. He expected silence in the hallways, but instead he found Elena curled on the couch, half-asleep, a book on her lap and her hand resting over her belly.
Dominic paused, watching her. For a man drowning in betrayal, the sight was grounding. He crossed the room quietly and sank beside her. Her eyes fluttered open.
"You're still awake," she whispered.
"So are you." He kissed her forehead, pulling the blanket over her shoulders. "I had work."
She searched his face but didn't pry. Instead, she rested her head on his chest. "As long as you come back to me."
Dominic wrapped an arm around her and closed his eyes. Even as his mind calculated armies and betrayals, he let himself breathe in the scent of her hair and the quiet kick of their child beneath her hand.