Chapter 11 - The Phantom Whisper
Three weeks passed.
The city of Chicago fell under a blanket of heavy December snow. The scandal surrounding Julian Cross’s arrest dominated the front pages of every newspaper from New York to Los Angeles, while Vale Meridian’s stock surged to historic highs.
Liam Prescott had disappeared into the shipping routes of Southeast Asia, a ghost erased from Sophia’s reality.
In the Lake Forest estate, peace had settled like fresh snow.
Sophia stood in the conservatory, watching snowflakes drift against the tall glass walls. The morning sickness had subsided, replaced by the gentle, blooming energy of her second trimester. Beneath her cashmere sweater, the swell of her belly was now unmistakably round.
Dominic walked into the room carrying two mugs of warm cider. He wore a dark woolen sweater and jeans—a rare, relaxed look that made him appear younger, softer.
“Dr. Vance called,” he said, handing her a mug and wrapping his free arm around her waist. “She wants you in for the twenty-week anatomy scan next Friday.”
Sophia smiled, leaning into his warmth. “Do you want to know the gender?”
Dominic kissed her temple, his lips lingering against her skin. “I only care that our baby is healthy. Boy or girl, they will have everything I never had.”
“A father who is home for dinner?” she teased gently.
“Every single night,” Dominic vowed, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
The peace was shattered by Caleb’s hurried footsteps on the stone floor.
Dominic stiffened, the domestic warmth evaporating from his posture in a heartbeat. He turned to face his head of security.
“What is it, Caleb?”
Caleb held a sealed envelope bearing the wax stamp of the Rossi family—the powerful Italian syndicate that controlled the southern rail corridors.
“Boss, Don Rossi just requested an emergency sit-down at the Drake,” Caleb said grimly. “He claims Julian Cross reached out from inside MCC Chicago. Cross isn't done. He’s trying to sell his remaining dock shares to the Rossi syndicate to fund an outside contract.”
Sophia’s mug trembled in her hands. “An outside contract?”
“A hit,” Dominic translated, his voice hardening into diamond. “Cross knows he’s spending the rest of his life in ADX Florence. He has nothing left to lose.”
Dominic turned to Sophia, taking her mug and setting it on the side table. He framed her face with his warm, steady hands.
“I have to go meet Rossi,” he said.
“Dominic, don't,” she pleaded, gripping his wrists. “It could be an ambush. Cross is cornered!”
“If I don't meet Rossi, he buys those docks, Sophia,” Dominic explained patiently, his eyes burning with protective fury. “And if the Rossi family controls those docks, I can no longer guarantee the security perimeter around Lake Michigan. I finish this today. For good.”
Sophia closed her eyes, fighting the rising panic. She pressed her forehead against his chest, listening to the steady, calm rhythm of his heart.
“Promise me you’ll come back whole,” she whispered.
Dominic lifted her chin and kissed her deeply—a kiss that tasted of devotion, possessiveness, and an unbreakable vow.
May you like
“I always come back to you, little bird,” he promised. “You are my home.”
***