Part 10
The New York penthouse was exactly as Meline remembered it—a sprawling, minimalist glass fortress suspended high above the glittering lights of Manhattan.
But there were changes.
The glass windows had been replaced with thick, ballistic-grade polymer.
The private elevator now required a dual-layer retinal scan.
And the air felt different. Still. Silent. Secure.
It was three in the morning when they arrived. Dominic had carried her from the garage straight to the master bedroom, refusing to let her feet touch the floor after the long journey.
He had tucked her into the massive king-sized bed, kissed her forehead with a lingering, protective warmth, and then vanished into his study to handle the fallout of Marcus’s betrayal.
Meline couldn't sleep.
She lay in the center of the bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind spinning.
She felt like a ghost haunting her old life.
Slowly, she sat up, throwing the heavy duvet aside. She walked barefoot across the cold hardwood floor toward the massive floor-to-ceiling windows.
The city below looked like a sea of diamonds, beautiful but distant.
Suddenly, she heard the soft click of the bedroom door opening.
She didn't turn around. She knew the rhythm of his footsteps.
Dominic walked into the room, wearing nothing but his dark trousers and a half-unbuttoned black shirt. He looked exhausted, the dark circles under his eyes deeper now, but his posture was still commanding.
He stopped a few feet behind her, his reflection appearing in the glass right beside hers.
“You should be resting,” he said softly.
“I can't sleep, Dominic,” she replied, her eyes focused on his reflection. “Every time I close my eyes, I hear the gunshots on the beach. I see Marcus’s face.”
Dominic stepped closer, his chest pressing gently against her back. He wrapped his long arms around her waist, pulling her back against his solid warmth. His large hands rested flat against her lower stomach, his fingers spreading wide, covering the small bump beneath her sweater.
Meline didn't pull away this time. She was too tired to fight the comfort his body offered.
“Marcus is gone, Meline,” Dominic whispered near her ear, his breath warm against her neck. “He boarded a flight to an isolated estate in South America an hour ago. He will never return to New York. He will never be a threat to you or our child again.”
Meline placed her hands over his, feeling the rough calluses on his palms against her skin.
“Is it over then?” she asked quietly. “The threat inside your house?”
Dominic was silent for a long moment. His grip on her waist tightened just a fraction, a protective reflex.
“The internal breach has been sealed,” he said carefully. “Silas has purged every file related to your medical history from our mainframes. As far as the rest of the world knows, you are simply back at my side where you belong.”
He turned her around in his arms, forcing her to look up at him. The ambient light from the city below illuminated the sharp angles of his face.
“Tomorrow, the medical team will do a full evaluation,” Dominic said, his voice dropping into a gentle, almost reverent tone. “I want to hear the heartbeat, Meline. I want to see the scans myself.”
Meline looked into his eyes, seeing the raw hunger for a family that he had tried to bury beneath years of violence and corporate warfare.
“It’s a girl, Dominic,” she said softly.
The words hung in the quiet room like a fragile piece of glass.
Dominic froze completely.
The man who had dismantled an international smuggling ring without blinking, the man who held the fates of thousands in his hands, looked suddenly, utterly defenseless.
His eyes widened slightly, a profound awe washing over his features.
“A girl?” he breathed, his voice cracking.
Meline nodded, her own eyes filling with tears at the expression on his face. “Yes. I had an early scan in Bangor before you found me. She’s healthy.”
Dominic didn't say anything.
Slowly, carefully, as if he were handling something made of ancient, brittle porcelain, he dropped to his knees before her.
He pressed his forehead against her stomach, his long arms wrapping around her hips, holding her to him with a quiet, shaking intensity.
Meline stood there, her fingers automatically rising to tangle themselves in his dark, wet hair, realizing with a sudden, heavy clarity that she had not just returned to her husband.
May you like
She had brought the monster of New York to his knees with a single sentence.
And that made him more dangerous than ever before.
