Chapter 11 - the lion's decree
Dominic set the receiver down on the cradle.
The study was suffocatingly tense. Mateo, Anna, and Leo were all watching him, waiting for his command.
Vivienne sat back in her chair, a smirk returning to her bruised lips. "You heard him, didn't you? Julian found out about the elder brother five years ago. That's why he made his move! You were never the true heir, Dominic! You’re just a placeholder!"
Dominic looked at her with pure disdain. "Take her down to the wine cellar," he told Mateo. "Strip her of her jewelry, her phone, and her shoes. Lock the vault door. If she makes a sound, gag her."
"Dominic! You can't do this! The Council will execute you tomorrow!" Vivienne screamed as Mateo grabbed her by the arms and dragged her out of the room, her crimson gown trailing in disgrace down the corridor.
Dominic turned to Leo. "Put him in the guardhouse. Feed him. Guard him with four men. He testifies tomorrow at the cathedral."
"Thank you, Boss... thank you," Leo choked out, bowing his head as the remaining guards escorted him out.
Now, only Dominic and Anna remained in the study.
Dominic walked over to the liquor cabinet, poured two fingers of bourbon into a crystal glass, and downed it in a single swallow.
Anna stepped closer, her hands clasped in front of her apron. "Dominic... what did Moretti mean? An older brother?"
"My father was a ruthless man," Dominic said, staring at the empty glass. "He kept secrets from everyone, even his own sons. If there is an older brother out there, Julian and Vivienne were using him as an excuse to usurp my seat."
"What are you going to do?" Anna asked softly. "Tomorrow at noon... they could take everything from you."
Dominic turned around. The doubt that had flickered in his eyes earlier was completely gone. In its place was the iron resolve of a warlord who had ruled an empire for twenty years.
"They won't take anything," Dominic said. He walked over to Anna, stopping inches away from her. "Because tonight, we change the rules."
"How?"
Dominic reached into his tuxedo pocket, pulled out the antique silver signet ring, and took Anna’s left hand.
Without hesitation, he slid the heavy ring onto her ring finger. It was large and heavy, but it gleamed brilliantly under the lamp light.
Anna gasped, her breath catching in her throat. "Dominic... what are you doing?"
"Eight years ago, I promised you that when the war was over, I would bring you to the altar," Dominic said, his voice deep and steady. "I lost eight years with you. I lost eight years of watching my son grow up. That ends tonight."
"Dominic, I’m a maid," Anna whispered, tears spilling over her lashes. "The Council... the high families... they will tear you apart if you marry me."
"Let them try," Dominic said.
He leaned down and kissed her—a fierce, protective kiss that washed away eight years of grief, fear, and loneliness. Anna let out a soft sob, her hands coming up to grip the lapels of his tuxedo, leaning into his strength.
When Dominic pulled back, his eyes were blazing with dangerous authority.
"Mateo!" he barked toward the hallway.
May you like
Mateo hurried back into the room. "Boss?"
"Call Father Thomas at Saint Patrick’s," Dominic ordered. "Tell him to put on his vestments and get to this estate within thirty minutes. And call the family tailors. My bride needs a dress, and my son needs a suit."
