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CHAPTER 18: Dominic
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2025-11-10 01:36:09
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Married To The Wrong Brother CHAPTER 21: Rosalia
I tugged at the ends of my hair, smoothing them down, but my fingers kept trembling. Nelly was right, of course. Davina and Dad were still not here. They had promised to arrive before midnight, but Dad’s endless business meetings, and he'd mentioned something about coverage. Though it had delayed them again, and he would never let Davina travel alone. My chest constricted.“Tell her I’ll be right there.”Nelly cocked a brow. “Tell her yourself. She’s about five seconds away from sending a search party. And for the love of God, fix your hair and feet. You look like you wrestled and lost.”I was about to ask Nelly if she’d seen Mom when she disappeared into my closet. My eyes widened as I noticed her returning with a small box I hadn’t seen before. It was wrapped in creamy, textured paper with delicate silver speckles like stars frozen mid-fall. A thin navy ribbon was tied neatly around it, forming a perfect little bow on top, and my fingers itched to untie it.“How… how did this get he
Married To The Wrong Brother CHAPTER 20: Dominic
I stared at the dead line for a moment before a knock broke through.“Can I come in, sir?” Louis stepped in, her heels clicking softly on the marble. She was too careful, which meant she’d already read my mood before walking in. I gave her a look before she continued. “Sir, you have an incoming call from Don Alessandro De Laurentiis. He insisted it’s urgent.”I set the glass down next to the empty bottle of whiskey.“He said that?”“Yes, sir. He sounded… impatient. Should I transfer it to your line?”I turned away, sliding my phone into my pocket. “No. Tell him I’ll attend to him when I can. I’m occupied.”She hesitated. “Sir, he –”“Louis, that’ll be all.”Her lips parted to argue, then closed again. For a moment she just stood there, clutching the tablet to her chest.“He said you should leave. He truly is busy.” Nico’s voice came from behind her and she froze, gave a tiny nod, and slipped out quietly. “What is it?” I asked.“Moretti,” he said. “Or at least something that looks li
Married To The Wrong Brother CHAPTER 19: Rosalia
For a heartbeat, I thought I was hallucinating. Then I answered and now, God help me, I wished I hadn’t.My phone was still on the floor where it slipped from my hand. My heart had skipped like it was trying to claw it way out of my chest. Before I could think, I flopped onto my bed, punching at the mattress and burying my face in the sheets to muffle the scream that threatened to tear free. It was him. After all these years.I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Be relieved or ashamed. Of course I was happy, ecstatic, even to hear Dominic’s voice again. But not after what I’d just done with Jonathan.Jonathan had asked me out earlier that night. It had been casual at first, joking, teasing, a spark of nervousness that made her chest tighten. I’d laughed at his awkward attempt at coolness, and then, emboldened by the thrill of being seen, had leaned in first, brushed my hand against his, and invited him to the little celebration at my house. The grin that had followed looked like I
Married To The Wrong Brother CHAPTER 18: Dominic
My head snapped up, and there she stood by the brick column to the right of the bar where the wall met an old arcade machine and a cracked mirror that reflected only half her body. The soft amber light slid over her flushed olive skin. Her long toffee-blonde hair fell over one shoulder, the strands dancing on her collarbone. Those pale grey with flecks of blue locked on mine, and I didn’t breathe because I didn’t want her to vanish.“You drink too much,” her soft, hoarse voice threaded with the reprimand I used to hate yet love sternly.I turned slightly, tilting my glass. “And you don’t drink enough. I hope you get to understand me.”She smiled. A slow, ruinous curve that always meant I’d lost before I even touched her. “Understanding you would mean losing myself, Domenico. I was never brave enough for that.”The sound of my name in her mouth was a confession and an accusation.“Maybe it is.” I swirled the glass, watching the amber shiver. “Maybe that’s why you keep haunting my peace
Married To The Wrong Brother CHAPTER 17: Dominic
The Ford rattled over Westchester roads, and I felt the pulse of rage in my chest. I wound my fingers around the ear tag, felt the plastic give, and pulled it free. The little camera on my chest clicked off when I pried the mount loose and thumbed the lens cover down. A lighter relief settled in my ribs like taking the bandage off an infection and finding out it was only a scab.Marc’s knuckles drummed the steering column. He and Nico had been quiet too long I could feel their silence judging me.When Marc finally spoke, it came out like a line he’d rehearsed. “We need to stop.”“Stop what?” I didn’t look at him but I knew he was glaring at me. And there was a cigarette I didn’t light because the air in the Ford was already dry.“This. Whatever you’re planning next. You can’t burn through the world. Westchester has problems we actually need fixed, fronts that matter. Not Moretti alone.”I shut my mouth slowly. He had a rhythm when he talked. He was patient to drown me in anything if h
Married To The Wrong Brother CHAPTER 16: Dominic
“It might,” my voice was low. “It might also make him exile the people who gave him shelter. He’s not as blind as you think.”Her eyes darted to the boy, then to me, then back again. In that tiny flicker I saw the math she’d been doing in her head, what she could trade, how much time she had left, what price the world might offer for a lie. I could see what years of needle tracks and throttled promises had done to her face. The child’s pulse fluttered against my palm when Marc handed him to me for a second, and I’d seen the lab reports in Marcello’s folder. Two bastards. A mother who feeds her poison to a child makes every broken thing she touches complicit.“Get him warm,” I told Marc, and he bundled the boy in a blanket.The woman shrieked different sounds shifting through a single insane orbit. She spoke a hundred words that meant nothing, a tide of ugly accusations aimed at whatever god or man she thought would answer as she clawed at the cord and scratched at the chair.Marc he
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