Chapter 4 - The Fortress on the Heights
The Morelli estate in Brooklyn Heights was a historic brownstone mansion built like a fortress, surrounded by wrought-iron gates and backed by a sweeping, unobstructed view of the Manhattan skyline across the river.
Inside, the house was warm, expansive, and surprisingly quiet. Dark wood paneling, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and soft velvet furniture created an atmosphere of understated, heavy power.
A middle-aged woman in a clean black dress met them in the foyer.
"Good evening, Mr. Morelli," she said respectfully.
"Mrs. Gable," Dominic replied, slipping off his leather gloves. "This is Miss Elena Brooks. She will be staying in the East Suite indefinitely. Prepare a hot meal for her, and make sure she has whatever she needs."
"Indefinitely?" Elena echoed, her voice squeaking slightly. "Mr. Morelli, I have a job! I have shifts at the clinic on Monday!"
"I have already purchased the clinic," Dominic said calmly, taking her coat—and his own jacket—and handing them to the housekeeper.
Elena froze. "You did what?"
"The Brooklyn Community Health Clinic was operating at a two-hundred-thousand-dollar annual deficit," Dominic said as he walked toward the grand library, gesturing for her to follow. "I bought the debt twenty minutes ago while we were in the car. You are now the head administrator of patient care, with a salary three times what you were making before."
Elena stood in the doorway of the library, her burgundy clutch pressed against her waist, her temper finally flaring through her exhaustion.
"You can't just buy my life!" she snapped, her eyes flashing with genuine anger. "You can't buy my clinic, move me into your house, and rewrite my career because you felt sorry for me in a ballroom!"
Dominic stopped near his mahogany desk. He turned around slowly, unbuttoning the top buttons of his black shirt, exposing the strong lines of his throat.
"I didn't do it because I felt sorry for you, Elena," he said, taking three slow, deliberate steps back toward her until he was standing so close she could feel the heat radiating off his chest.
"Then why did you do it?" she demanded, refusing to back away this time.
"Because Richard Vale and his daughter think they can crush anyone who doesn't have a corporate legal team behind them," Dominic said, his voice dropping into a low, hypnotic register. "And because I want you here. Where I can see you. Where no one will ever make you feel small again."
Elena stared at him, her breath hitching in her throat. Up close, the thin scar along his jaw was visible, giving his dark, handsome face a dangerous, weathered edge. He smelled of rain, fire, and absolute control.
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"I am not a charity project, Dominic," she whispered, using his first name for the first time.
"I know," he replied softly, his hand rising slowly, his long fingers stopping just short of touching her red velvet sleeve. "Charity projects are easy. You... are going to be very complicated."
