Chapter 13 - Dominic Rossi Broke His Own Rules
Dominic disappeared for six hours.
Not literally.
He stayed inside the mansion.
But he locked himself inside his mother’s room and refused to speak to anyone.
Including me.
I let him.
That may have been the hardest thing I had done since arriving.
Nurses fix things.
We stop bleeding.
Lower fevers.
Measure pain.
But grief doesn't respond to medication.
At noon, I left food outside his door.
At two, it remained untouched.
At four, I knocked.
“Dominic.”
Nothing.
“I’m coming in.”
The door opened before I touched the handle.
He looked exhausted.
“That's usually my line.”
“You've had enough opportunities to use it.”
I walked inside.
He sat by the piano.
I took the chair opposite him.
“I fired Leo.”
“I heard.”
“He admitted knowing Vincent was involved in my mother's death six years ago.”
“I heard that too.”
“He thought silence protected me.”
“People can make terrible decisions for reasons they believe are good.”
“You're defending him?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I’m saying betrayal isn't always simple.”
He stared at the floor.
“Everything in my life is a lie.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“My father. Vincent. Anthony. Pierce. Knox. Leo.”
“Your mother wasn't.”
He swallowed.
“Marco believed a lie and shot me.”
“Yes.”
“You were hired as part of a plan to watch me die.”
“Yes.”
“And you stayed.”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
His eyes met mine.
“Why?”
Again that question.
This time the answer had changed.
“Because I care about you.”
Silence.
Dominic stood slowly.
I did too.
“This is where you tell me that's a bad idea,” I said.
“It is.”
“I know.”
“I'm not a good man.”
“Don't decide for me.”
“I've done things—”
“I know.”
“No. You know rumors.”
“Then tell me.”
He looked away.
“I've hurt people.”
“Have you killed people?”
He became very still.
“Yes.”
I absorbed that.
It mattered.
I wasn't going to romanticize it.
“Why?”
“Some were trying to kill me. Some were trying to kill people I was responsible for.”
“And others?”
A long silence.
“One.”
My stomach tightened.
“Who?”
“A man who betrayed my father.”
“Was he threatening you?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because my father ordered it.”
I closed my eyes briefly.
“How old were you?”
“Twenty-two.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Every day.”
“Would you do it again?”
“No.”
That mattered too.
Dominic looked at me.
“You should leave.”
“Maybe.”
His face tightened.
“But?”
“But I don't think the worst thing you've done has to become the only thing you are.”
His eyes grew wet.
He looked away.
“My father would have laughed at that.”
“I don't care what your father would have done.”
A quiet laugh escaped him.
Then he looked back at me.
“What do you care about?”
“You.”
The room became still.
Dominic stepped toward me.
Slowly.
Giving me time to move away.
I didn't.
His hand touched my cheek.
So gently it was almost impossible to reconcile with the man everyone feared.
“Nora.”
“Yes?”
“Tell me to stop.”
I didn't.
His forehead rested against mine.
No dramatic kiss.
No reckless declaration.
Just warmth.
Trust.
A breath shared in the quiet room where his mother once tried to teach him that love wasn't possession.
Then I whispered:
“If this ever becomes something between us, I can't be your nurse anymore.”
“I know.”
“You don't get to order me.”
A faint smile.
“I suspected that.”
“You don't own me.”
His expression became serious.
“Never.”
“And you don't get to solve every problem with violence.”
He laughed softly.
“That may be difficult.”
“Then learn.”
He nodded.
“I’ll try.”
That was enough for now.
Daniel interrupted ten minutes later.
Naturally.
He opened the door, saw us standing too close, and immediately looked unhappy.
“No.”
I sighed.
“Daniel.”
“No.”
Dominic raised an eyebrow.
“You don't even know what happened.”
“I have eyes.”
“We were talking.”
“Standing six inches apart?”
“It was an intense conversation.”
Daniel looked ready to arrest him on principle.
I stepped between them.
“Why are you here?”
He held up a file.
“Because Vincent talked.”
Everything changed.
Vincent had agreed to cooperate in exchange for avoiding the harshest possible sentence.
Daniel hated the deal.
So did Dominic.
But Vincent gave them names.
Locations.
Accounts.
And one final secret.
Carlo Rossi had maintained a hidden ledger detailing every corrupt payment made during his lifetime.
Judges.
Police.
Officials.
Business owners.
The ledger could dismantle dozens of criminal relationships.
“Where is it?” Dominic asked.
Daniel looked at him.
“Vincent says Elena took it.”
Dominic frowned.
“The night she died.”
“Yes.”
“So where did she hide it?”
“We don't know.”
Dominic pulled the brass key from his pocket.
“We found everything in her room.”
“Maybe not.”
I remembered something.
The pendant.
Elena's necklace.
The hidden compartment.
The key.
“Could there be another compartment?”
Dominic examined the necklace again.
Nothing.
Then I noticed the engraving inside.
A phrase in Italian.
Dominic translated.
“Where the flowers grow.”
I looked around the mansion.
There were no flowers.
Not outside.
Not anywhere.
Then I remembered the photograph of Elena and young Dominic.
Behind them was a garden.
Full of roses.
“Where was that picture taken?”
Dominic looked at it.
“At our old house.”
“Does your family still own it?”
“Yes.”
Leo had once told me the current estate contained not a single flower.
Maybe that had been deliberate.
Maybe Dominic couldn't bear them.
But Elena had loved them.
An hour later, we reached the abandoned Rossi family home outside the city.
Behind it lay an overgrown garden.
Dead vines.
Broken stones.
And one surviving rose bush.
Dominic stared.
“My mother planted this.”
Beneath the bush, Daniel’s team found a metal box.
Inside was Carlo Rossi’s ledger.
But there was something else.
An envelope.
Addressed:
To my son, when he is finally ready to choose his own life.
Dominic held it in both hands.
And for once, the choice waiting for him had nothing to do with survival.
May you like
It was about freedom.
---
