Chapter 8: The Wait Outside

Dominic Kane sat in the back of his Bentley, phone pressed to his ear, watching the entrance to St. Mary's Academy. The driver had turned off the engine twenty minutes ago. The street was quiet except for the occasional car passing by.

"You're still there?" His assistant's voice carried surprise through the phone. "Sir, the Singapore call is scheduled for eleven. That's in forty minutes."

"Reschedule it," Dominic said.

"But they've been trying to get this meeting for three weeks."

"Then they can wait another day. Reschedule it, James."

There was a pause on the other end. "Is everything alright?"

Dominic looked at the school's lit windows. Somewhere inside, Elena was dealing with a family crisis. A woman he'd danced with once, worked with professionally on a handful of projects, and found himself unable to stop thinking about.

"Everything's fine. Just handle the Singapore meeting."

"Of course. Sir, if you don't mind my asking, why are you sitting outside a school at ten thirty on a Thursday night?"

It was a fair question. Dominic had built a billion dollar empire by being ruthless with his time. Every minute was accounted for, every decision calculated for maximum return. Sitting in a car outside a school for a woman who might not even need his help made no logical sense.

"Because it's the right thing to do," Dominic said simply.

He ended the call and leaned back against the leather seat. Through the tinted window, he could see the school's main entrance clearly. No movement yet.

Dominic thought about the moment at the gala when Elena received the call. The way her face had changed instantly, all the polished professional composure dropping away to reveal raw fear. She'd moved toward the exit without hesitation, without caring who saw or what they thought.

That kind of love was rare. Dominic had seen enough of the world to know it.

He'd grown up in foster care, bounced between seven different homes before he aged out of the system at eighteen. He'd seen every kind of parent there was. The ones who did it for the monthly check. The ones who meant well but were overwhelmed. The ones who were outright cruel. And very, very rarely, the ones who actually loved the children in their care.

Dominic had learned early to recognize genuine love. It had a specific quality, a fierceness that couldn't be faked. Elena had that quality when she'd heard her daughter was in trouble.

His phone buzzed with a text from his business partner in London. Another deal needing attention, another decision requiring his input. Dominic glanced at it and set the phone face down on the seat beside him.

The truth was, Elena Cordova fascinated him in ways that went beyond professional respect.

He'd been watching her for months before they officially met. Her analytical reports crossed his desk regularly, and he'd been impressed every single time. She saw patterns other analysts missed, identified risks and opportunities with uncanny accuracy. Her mind worked at a level most people couldn't match.

But it was more than her intelligence that interested him.

Dominic recognized something in Elena, something he understood intimately. She had the same survival instinct he'd developed as a kid with nothing and nobody. The same way of using brilliance as armor against a world that could hurt you. The same careful distance she kept from everyone, protecting herself because she'd learned the hard way that trust was dangerous.

He'd built his entire life on those same instincts.

Growing up in foster care taught you that you couldn't depend on anyone. That the only person who would fight for you was yourself. That intelligence and ruthlessness were the tools you needed to survive. Dominic had used those tools to claw his way out of poverty into unimaginable wealth.

But somewhere along the way, he'd realized that the armor he built to protect himself also kept everyone out. He had money, power, respect. He didn't have connection. He didn't have anyone who saw past the ruthless billionaire to the person underneath.

Until he met Elena, he hadn't cared about that absence.

There was something about the way she moved through the business world. Brilliant and strategic, yes. But also fundamentally alone, even in rooms full of people. She had the same walls he did, the same careful control.

Dominic wondered what had hurt her badly enough to build those walls. Tonight, watching her desperate rush to her daughter's side, he thought he was beginning to understand.

Someone had made this extraordinary woman feel invisible. Someone had taken her love and brilliance and treated it like it didn't matter. The ex-husband, presumably. The one whose company she'd just saved despite having every reason to let it fail.

The school doors opened.

Dominic straightened, watching as Elena emerged with a small figure beside her. Even from this distance, he could see the protective way Elena held the child close. The girl looked fragile, exhausted, clinging to her mother.

Behind them, a man in a business suit stood in the doorway. Marcus Ashford, Dominic assumed. He'd researched Elena's background thoroughly before offering her the consulting contract. He knew about the marriage, the divorce, the custody situation.

Dominic watched the brief conversation between Elena and her ex-husband. Body language told him everything he needed to know. Marcus standing rigid and defensive. Elena standing firm but not aggressive. The child pressed against her mother, making her choice clear.

Dominic got out of the car and opened the back door as Elena approached.

"Thank you for waiting," Elena said quietly. Her voice was strained, tired.

"Of course." Dominic looked at the little girl. "This must be Lily."

The child didn't respond, just buried her face against Elena's side.

"She's exhausted," Elena explained. "It's been a difficult evening."

"I understand." Dominic gestured to the open car door. "Let's get you both home."

He helped Elena guide Lily into the back seat. The girl moved like she was sleepwalking, all her energy spent. Elena slid in beside her daughter, and Lily immediately curled against her, seeking comfort.

Dominic closed the door gently and returned to his seat up front. "Where to?"

Elena gave her address, a building downtown. As the car pulled smoothly away from the school, Dominic glanced back through the privacy divider.

Lily had already fallen asleep, her head on Elena's lap. Elena stroked her daughter's hair with one hand, staring out the window with an expression Dominic couldn't quite read. Exhaustion, yes. Relief. But also something deeper. Fear, maybe. Or determination.

The drive took fifteen minutes through quiet streets. Dominic didn't try to make conversation. He understood instinctively that Elena needed silence right now, space to process whatever had happened in that school.

When they arrived at Elena's building, Dominic got out and opened the back door. Lily was deeply asleep now, breathing slowly and evenly.

"I can carry her up if you'd like," Dominic offered.

Elena hesitated for just a moment, then nodded. "Thank you. She's on the fourth floor and I don't think I can manage her and my bag and the stairs."

Dominic bent down and carefully scooped Lily into his arms. The child barely stirred, just shifted slightly and continued sleeping. She was lighter than he expected, small for seven years old.

Elena led the way into the building and up the elevator. She unlocked her apartment door and gestured toward a bedroom. "In there, please."

The room was clearly prepared with love. Everything coordinated in soft colors, books on the shelves, drawings pinned to a bulletin board. A room that said someone very much wanted this child here.

Dominic laid Lily gently on the bed. Elena pulled off her daughter's shoes and covered her with a blanket. The child sighed in her sleep and rolled onto her side.

Back in the hallway, Elena closed the bedroom door most of the way, leaving it open just enough to hear if Lily called out.

"Thank you," Elena said. "For everything. For driving us, for waiting, for helping carry her up. You didn't have to do any of that."

"I know." Dominic studied her face. She looked drained, worn down by more than just one difficult evening. "Are you alright?"

"I will be." Elena managed a small smile. "Once I process everything that happened tonight."

Dominic knew he should leave. It was late, she was exhausted, and this was clearly a private family matter. But something made him pause.

"Elena, can I tell you something?"

She looked at him with those sharp, analytical eyes. "Of course."

"You're an impressive mother," Dominic said simply. "The way you dropped everything to get to your daughter. The way she reached for you even though she was confused and scared. That kind of bond doesn't just happen. You built that through years of showing up, of being there, of loving her consistently. That's rare. That's valuable. That's worth more than any business deal or professional achievement."

Elena stared at him, and for a moment he thought he'd said too much, crossed some invisible line. Then her eyes filled with tears she blinked back quickly.

"Thank you," she whispered. "You have no idea how much I needed to hear that."

Dominic nodded and stepped toward the door. "Get some rest. We can reschedule our Monday meeting if you need time."

"I'll be there," Elena said. "Monday at nine."

"If you're sure."

"I'm sure. Work helps me think. And besides, I have a daughter to provide for. I can't afford to miss meetings."

Dominic smiled at that. Even exhausted and emotionally drained, she was thinking strategically about her future and her child's security. 

"Goodnight, Elena."

"Goodnight. And Dominic? Thank you. For seeing me."

He understood exactly what she meant. Not just tonight, but in general. For seeing her as a complete person, a mother and professional and human being, when others had only seen the parts that served them.

"Always," he said simply, and left before he could say anything else.

In the car heading home, Dominic thought about Elena and her daughter curled together in that apartment. About the fierce love between them. About the protective way Elena held her child, like she'd fight the whole world to keep her safe.

And he thought about how long it had been since he'd felt that kind of connection to anyone.

His phone buzzed again with business messages. Dominic ignored them all, staring out at the city lights and thinking about a woman with sad eyes and a brilliant mind who was learning to fight for herself.