Chapter 8 - The Showdown at Pier 4
By sunrise, the fog over Boston Harbor was thick enough to cut with a knife.
Matteo stood at the edge of Pier 4, wearing his long dark coat, flanked by twenty heavily armed guards. Beside him stood Titan and Nero, their leather harnesses tight, their eyes locked onto the black warehouse at the end of the dock.
Inside that warehouse was Arthur Vance and his remaining mercenaries, surrounded by federal task force agents who were closing in based on evidence Matteo had leaked hours prior.
Grace sat inside the armored SUV parked fifty yards back, guarded by Leo and Dolores. She had refused to stay behind at the house, insisting on coming along to ensure the dogs remained calm during the confrontation.
Through the tinted window, Grace watched as Arthur Vance was dragged out of the warehouse in handcuffs by federal agents, shouting obscenities at Matteo.
Matteo stood motionless on the wet wood of the pier, watching his enemy’s downfall with cold, absolute silence.
As the police sirens faded into the distance, Matteo turned and walked back toward the SUV.
He opened the heavy armored door and looked in at Grace. The morning sun was just beginning to break through the gray fog, casting a warm golden light over her soft features.
“It’s over,” Matteo said softly, extending his hand toward her. “Vance is going away for the rest of his life. The estate is secure.”
Grace took his hand and stepped out onto the damp pier. The cool ocean breeze whipped her hair around her face, bringing the scent of salt and pine.
Titan and Nero immediately trotted over, pressing their heavy heads against Grace’s knees, seeking their morning scratches.
Grace knelt down on the wet wooden planks, wrapping her arms around both massive pitbulls, laughing softly as they licked her cheeks.
“Good boys,” she whispered. “You did so good.”
Matteo knelt down beside her on the cold pier. He looked at the dogs, then raised his eyes to meet Grace’s.
“They didn't just protect you because of training, Grace,” Matteo said softly, his voice thick with emotion.
Grace paused, looking at him. “What do you mean?”
“Dogs like Titan and Nero... they don't love easily,” Matteo said, reaching out to cup her cheek with his large, warm hand. “They spent years being hurt, feared, and isolated. Just like me. They recognized someone who looked past the scars, past the reputation, and saw something worth loving.”
Grace’s breath hitched in her throat. She searched his dark amber eyes, seeing no trace of the cold mob boss—only a man who was deeply, truly in love with her.
May you like
“Matteo...” she whispered.
“I don't want a temporary maid, Grace,” Matteo said, his voice dropping into a tender, intense whisper. “I want you. I want you in my house, in my life, and at my side. Forever.”
