Chapter 5 - Whispers in the Garden
Midnight.
The estate was wrapped in an eerie, unnatural silence. The security lights cast long, stark beams across the lawns, highlighting the heavy iron bars on the lower-level windows.
Inside the private library, however, a single brass desk lamp threw a warm, amber glow across thousands of leather-bound books.
Dominic Russo stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring out into the dark gardens with a glass of un-iced scotch in his hand. The ice had melted completely, mirroring the cold, lethal fury boiling beneath his calm exterior.
When the heavy oak door clicked open, he didn't turn around. He already knew who it was.
Beatrice stepped into the room. She was wearing a loose emerald-green cardigan over a simple black dress—the color he had asked for that morning. Her dark curls were tied back in a loose bun, and her bare feet made no sound against the Persian rug.
“Marcus said you wanted to see me after Leo fell asleep,” Beatrice said quietly, stopping a few feet away from his massive mahogany desk.
Dominic finally turned around. His slate-gray eyes swept over her, taking in the green knit of her sweater, the slight tremor in her hands, and the unmistakable courage shining in her dark eyes.
“Those bastards shouldn't have been able to get within a mile of this estate,” Dominic said, his voice dangerously low. “My security failed today. And you and Leo were put in the line of fire.”
“It wasn't your security’s fault, Mr. Russo,” Beatrice said softly, taking a step closer. “They reacted instantly. But... the men in that car. They mentioned your name. They mentioned enemies.”
Dominic walked toward her, his footsteps heavy and measured. He stopped just inches away, towering over her, radiating a fierce, protective heat that made her breath hitch.
“My world is built on blood, Beatrice,” Dominic said, his voice dropping into a raw, unfiltered honesty. “For ten years, since my wife died, I kept my life partitioned. Business in the city. Silence in this house. I thought if I kept everything compartmentalized, nobody could ever hurt what mattered.”
He reached out, his warm, calloused fingers gently cupping her cheek, just as he had done in the kitchen days before.
“And then you started dancing in my kitchen,” Dominic murmured, his gaze locking onto her lips. “And I realized I didn't want silence anymore. I wanted life.”
Beatrice’s heart hammered frantically against her ribs. She looked up into his eyes, seeing the lonely, terrifying weight of the empire he carried, and felt an overwhelming wave of empathy and fierce affection.
“Dominic...” she whispered, using his first name for the very first time without hesitation.
May you like
He didn't wait. He closed the remaining distance between them, capturing her lips in a kiss that was fierce, hungry, and desperate—a collision of two completely different worlds finding a strange, violent peace in each other.
Beatrice gasped softly against his mouth, her hands rising instinctively to grip the lapels of his suit jacket, pulling him closer as the world outside faded into nothingness.
