Part 7
The interior of the black SUV was warm, the heater blasting quiet air into the cabin.
Dominic had wrapped Meline in a thick, dry wool blanket, but he hadn't moved away from her.
He sat right beside her on the leather bench seat, his arm stretched out along the backrest behind her shoulders, not quite touching her, but marking his territory nonetheless.
Meline stared out the tinted window, watching the dark Maine trees blur past in the rain.
The adrenaline was fading, leaving her completely exhausted, her body heavy with the physical strain of the pregnancy and the escape.
“Drink this,” Dominic said, placing a thermal cup of warm water into her hands.
She didn't want to take it, but her throat was parched. She took a small sip.
“Where are we going?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
“The regional airfield,” Dominic replied smoothly. “Marcus is waiting there in a private hangar. He thinks his team is bringing you to him so he can negotiate a piece of my shipping routes in exchange for your safety.”
Meline turned her head to look at him. His profile was sharp, illuminated by the faint glow of the dashboard lights.
“Are you going to kill him?”
Dominic didn't look at her. He adjusted the cuff of his shirt, his movements precise.
“Marcus is family,” Dominic said, and for a second, Meline felt a small relief.
Then he added, “Which means his execution must be handled with appropriate discretion. The family council does not tolerate treason, Meline. Especially when it involves my blood.”
Meline shuddered, drawing the blanket tighter around herself. “This is exactly why I left,” she said, her voice filled with a profound sadness.
“Look at you. You speak about killing your own cousin like you're discussing a business merger. What kind of life is that for a child? To grow up around men who see human life as currency?”
Dominic finally turned his head.
He looked at her, his eyes searching her face, finding the pale lines of her skin, the exhaustion that he had caused by chasing her.
“You think I want my child to be like me?” he asked softly, a rare note of vulnerability cracking through his armored exterior.
Meline blinked, surprised by the tone.
“I became what I am so no one could ever dictate my terms,” Dominic said, his hand moving down to gently cover hers on the blanket. His palm was massive, completely engulfing her smaller hand.
“I built an empire so I could create a fortress. For you. For anyone who carries my name.”
“If I am weak, Meline, if I let Marcus walk away after he touched what belongs to me… then the fortress crumbles. And then every enemy I have ever made comes for you.”
He leaned in closer, his dark eyes locking onto hers with absolute certainty.
“You thought you were hiding from me to keep the baby safe.”
“But the truth is, the only place this child survives is inside the walls I build around you.”
The SUV slowed down, its tires crunching against gravel as it turned into a gated airfield.
Up ahead, a single, large hangar was illuminated by bright floodlights. Outside the hangar stood two more black vehicles, with men standing guard under umbrellas.
Marcus’s men.
Dominic’s hand didn't leave hers. He squeezed it once, a gentle, almost reassuring pressure that didn't match the cold violence waiting outside the vehicle.
“Stay in the car,” Dominic ordered quietly.
“Dominic—”
May you like
“Stay in the car, Meline,” he repeated, his voice leaving absolutely no room for argument.
He opened the door and stepped out into the rain, leaving her alone in the warmth, watching through the glass as the storm swallowed him whole.
