Chapter 2 - The Bruises in the Mirror
By dawn, the rain had reduced to a gray mist clinging to the black waters of Lake Michigan.
Sophia sat on the edge of the sprawling king-sized bed inside Dominic’s private penthouse in the Gold Coast. The apartment was a fortress: bullet-resistant glass, private elevator keys coded to biometric scans, and four security personnel stationed in the lobby and stairwells around the clock.
She stared into the freestanding vanity mirror.
The bruises were fully blooming now. Four purple fingerprints along the right side of her throat, one broad thumb-mark on the left. The imprint of Liam’s hands. A violent map of her past refusing to remain buried.
Two warm, broad hands settled gently over her shoulders.
Dominic stood behind her, wearing a clean charcoal suit, fresh white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. His dark eyes met hers in the glass.
“Stop looking at them,” he said quietly.
“I can’t,” Sophia whispered. “Every time I swallow, I feel his fingers. I spent three years running from Seattle, Dominic. I changed my hair, I changed my bank accounts, I worked under my maiden name… How did he find me?”
Dominic’s hands slid down to wrap around the base of her neck, his touch soft as velvet, covering the dark purple marks completely with his warmth. He leaned down until his breath stirred her hair.
“He didn’t find you on his own, Sophia. Liam Prescott is an alcoholic trust-fund failure who couldn’t find his way out of an airport without his family’s money. Someone fed him your address. Someone handed him the gallery keycard.”
Sophia went cold. “Who?”
“My family’s enemies,” Dominic answered plainly. “Or someone inside my own house.”
The realization crashed down on her. Dominic’s marriage to her six months ago had been conducted in absolute secrecy—officiated on a private boat off the coast of Maine with only Caleb and a notary as witnesses. Dominic had hidden her away not because he was ashamed, but because a king’s queen is always a target for assassins.
“They know about me?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“Not officially,” Dominic replied, turning her gently to face him. He crouched down between her knees so they were eye-to-eye. “Liam didn’t know who I was until he saw my face. Whoever sent him used him as an unwitting pawn. They wanted to test my reaction, to see what was hidden inside the Hawthorne Gallery that made Vale Meridian dispatch two armored sedans on a Tuesday night.”
“And now they know.”
“Now they know I have a wife,” Dominic said, reaching out to rest his palm against her flat stomach, right where their baby slept under layers of silk. “And they will soon know she is carrying the next heir to the Vale legacy.”
Sophia swallowed hard, the ache in her throat flaring. “What happens now?”
“Now, the masquerade is over,” he said, his eyes flashing with lethal clarity. “We stop hiding in the shadows, Sophia. If my enemies want to see who owns my heart, I will show them. I’m hosting the annual Winter Gala at the Drake Hotel next Friday.”
Sophia’s breath hitched. “The Vale Gala? Dominic, the entire city attends. The mayor, the judges, the heads of the five South Side shipping families—”
“And you will walk down that staircase wearing diamonds and my ring on your hand,” Dominic declared, rising to his full height. He looked every inch the conqueror he was born to be. “We will announce our marriage publicly. Let every predator in this city see that touching you means war with everything I own.”
Before she could answer, his phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Dominic answered on speaker without breaking eye contact with Sophia. “Speak, Caleb.”
“Boss,” Caleb’s gravelly voice sounded clipped. “Prescott’s attorney just walked him out of the 1st District precinct. A black Mercedes picked them up.”
“License plate?”
“Registered to a shell corporation out of Delaware,” Caleb said grimly. “Owned by Julian Cross.”
Sophia saw Dominic’s pupils dilate.
Julian Cross. Dominic’s oldest rival, the cutthroat real-estate baron who controlled the city’s underground logistics and had spent the last five years trying to seize Vale Meridian’s lakefront docks.
“Bring the car around,” Dominic commanded coldly. “And double the team at Sophia’s door.”
“Dominic, wait,” Sophia cried, grabbing his arm as he moved to leave. “What are you going to do to Liam?”
Dominic looked down at her small, trembling hand on his sleeve. His expression softened, but the ice beneath remained intact.
May you like
“Nothing you need to lose sleep over, my love,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. “Just making sure the dead stay buried.”
***