Chapter 7 - The Calm Before the Storm
The next thirty-six hours moved in a blur of intense military preparation inside the Rossi fortress.
Vehicles were constantly moving through the iron gates. Heavily armed men in tactical gear assembled in the subterranean garages, checking weapons, securing bulletproof vests, and reviewing maps of the Brooklyn Navy Yard. The entire estate felt like a war zone waiting for the first bomb to drop.
Despite the chaos, Dominic made sure I was kept completely safe. Two dedicated female bodyguards were assigned to stay outside my bedroom door at all times. My meals were prepared by a private chef, and Dr. Vance checked on my laceration twice a day, ensuring the stitches were healing cleanly without infection.
On the evening of the summit, three hours before Dominic was scheduled to leave for the Brooklyn Navy Yard, a package arrived at my room.
It was a large, elegant black box wrapped in a gold silk ribbon. Attached to the top was a small, hand-written card bearing a single line written in sharp, bold cursive:
Wear this tonight. You are coming with me. — D.R.
I opened the box to reveal a breathtaking floor-to-length evening gown made of thick, emerald-green velvet. It was long-sleeved, high-collared, and tailored with incredible sophistication. Accompanying the dress was a pair of low-heeled leather shoes and a delicate diamond brooch shaped like a rose.
I stared at the dress in shock. Why would Dominic want me to go to a dangerous mob summit? Why bring a former maid to a high-stakes negotiation with bloodthirsty crime bosses?
Fifteen minutes later, a professional hair and makeup stylist—specifically cleared by Rossi security—entered my room. She worked quickly and discreetly, styling my dark hair into an elegant side sweep that partially hid the bandaged side of my face while showcasing the emerald velvet dress.
When I was fully dressed, I looked at myself in the full-length mirror. I barely recognized the woman standing there. Gone was the clumsy, invisible maid in a plain apron. Standing in her place was a poised, strikingly striking woman wrapped in luxury, holding herself with a quiet, undeniable dignity.
A heavy knock sounded at the door.
Dominic walked into the room. He was dressed in a pristine black suit with a dark green silk tie that perfectly matched the shade of my velvet dress.
He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me.
For a long, lingering ten seconds, Dominic Rossi stood completely motionless, his cold blue eyes sweeping slowly over every inch of my body—from the rich velvet clinging to my waist down to the practical leather heels, before stopping on my eyes.
A rare, unmistakable look of profound admiration flashed across his sharp face.
"You look stunning, Skyler," Dominic said, his voice unusually raspy.
"Thank you, Mr. Rossi," I said, feeling my cheeks flush warm despite the makeup. "But... why am I coming with you tonight? Isn't the Navy Yard dangerous?"
Dominic walked toward me, his heavy steps steady and confident. He stopped right in front of me, reaching out to adjust the small emerald brooch pinned to my lapel. His fingers brushed lightly against my collarbone, sending a sudden spike of electricity through my veins.
"Don Carmine told the four major syndicate families that you were a lying, low-class maid who staged an attack to ruin his family's honor," Dominic explained softly, his eyes locking onto mine. "He wants the commission to believe I cast Bianca aside for a worthless nobody."
He leaned in slightly closer, his deep voice wrapping around me like a velvet shroud. "Tonight, I am going to walk into that summit with you on my arm. I want every crime boss in New York to see the woman who showed real courage, real loyalty, and real honor. I want them to see the woman I chose over Bianca Moretti."
My breath hitched in my throat. "The woman you chose?"
Dominic didn't answer with words. Instead, he slowly raised his right hand, gently brushing his knuckles against the uninjured side of my jawline. His touch was electric, intense, and filled with a raw, unspoken passion that made my heart hammer violently against my ribs.
"Trust me, Skyler," Dominic whispered, his blue eyes burning into mine. "Tonight, we finish this."
He offered me his broad, suited arm.
I looked at his arm, took a deep breath, and slid my hand securely into the crook of his elbow. "I trust you, Dominic."
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It was the first time I had ever spoken his first name out loud. A faint, dark smile pulled at his lips as he squeezed my arm tightly against his side.
"Let's go," he said.
