Chapter 4 - THE FIANCÉE’S DEADLY WEB
Three miles away, in a palatial estate overlooking Lake Michigan, Camilla Rossi sat before a gilded vanity mirror, calmly applying a coat of deep crimson lipstick. The storm raging outside matched the cold, calculated violence brewing in her blood.
At thirty-two, Camilla was a striking, statuesque woman with raven-black hair and eyes the color of chipped ice. She was the eldest daughter of the Rossi crime family, a syndicate that had warred with the Gallow family for three generations. Her arranged engagement to Dominic was supposed to be a historic peace treaty, a merger of two vast, blood-soaked empires.
But Camilla did not want a merger. She wanted total control.
Dominic was too smart, too ruthless, and too impossible to manipulate. He treated her not as a partner, but as a necessary business transaction. She despised him for it. More importantly, she knew that as long as Dominic lived, she would only ever be the queen consort, never the absolute ruler.
So, she had quietly opened communications with the Moretti faction—a rogue group of gangsters who had been exiled by Dominic years ago. They had a common enemy, and Camilla had the inside access required to dismantle the Gallow empire from within.
Her plan had been simple: assassinate Dominic shortly after the wedding, frame the Morettis, wipe them out in 'retaliation,' and seize total control of both families' assets.
But three days ago, a nurse at a South Side free clinic—who owed the Rossi family a significant gambling debt—had brought Camilla a piece of information that threatened to ruin everything.
A former maid from the Gallow penthouse was five months pregnant with twins. The timing aligned perfectly with the night of the Gallow charity masquerade.
Camilla had stared at the grainy copy of the ultrasound, her blood turning to ice. Illegitimate heirs. If Dominic found out he had children—twins, no less—his entire focus would shift. The Gallow men were notoriously, violently protective of their bloodline. Dominic would fortify his inner circle. He would cancel the wedding to avoid tying his children to the Rossi name. Her window of opportunity would slam shut permanently.
She could not let that happen. Layla Bennett and the unborn bastards had to be erased from existence before Dominic ever knew they existed.
Camilla picked up her burner phone and dialed a secure number. The line clicked open.
"Is it done?" Camilla asked, her voice as smooth as velvet.
"We hit the diner," the gruff voice of a Moretti hitman replied over the sound of rain and sirens. "But there's a complication. Gallow was there. His car broke down. He was inside when we opened fire."
Camilla's perfectly manicured nails dug painfully into her palms. "Did you kill him?"
"No. He got the girl out through the back alley. He had his enforcers with him. We lost them in the maze under the L-train tracks. But we wounded one of his men."
"Fools," Camilla hissed, her composure cracking. "You incompetent fools! If Dominic is with her, he knows. Do you understand what you've done? You haven't just failed to kill a pregnant waitress, you have ignited a war."
"We'll find them," the hitman promised nervously. "He can't take her to a hospital. She's a liability."
"Find them tonight, or I will hand your heads to Dominic myself," Camilla threatened, hanging up the phone. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, her beautiful face twisted into a mask of pure malice.
Meanwhile, deep in the underbelly of Chicago, Dominic’s heavily armored secondary SUV tore through the wet streets, running red lights and swerving past late-night traffic. Inside the dimly lit cabin, the tension was suffocating.
Layla sat huddled in the corner of the leather backseat, shivering violently despite the blasting heater. She was covered in a mixture of rainwater, sweat, and glass dust. She had her arms wrapped tightly around her swollen belly, her eyes wide with shock.
Dominic sat beside her, his face a mask of terrifying, cold calculation. He had a trauma kit open on the seat between them, expertly wrapping a pressure bandage around his own forearm, where a piece of shrapnel from the diner's window had sliced deeply into his skin.
He finished tying off the bandage with his teeth and his good hand, then turned his intense gaze upon Layla.
"Are you hit?" he demanded, his voice rough.
"N-no," she stammered, her teeth chattering. "I'm okay. The babies... they're kicking. They're okay."
Dominic let out a harsh breath, reaching out with his uninjured hand. He hesitated for a fraction of a second, his fingers hovering over the stained fabric of her apron, before gently resting his large palm directly over the swell of her stomach.
The moment he made contact, a profound, electric shock seemed to pass between them. Layla gasped softly. Dominic’s eyes widened slightly as he felt the distinct, powerful kick of his child pressing against his palm. The ruthless mob boss, a man who commanded fear and respect across the Midwest, stared at her stomach with an expression of raw, unadulterated awe.
"Two," he whispered, the reality finally anchoring itself in his mind. "I have two children in there."
"They're mine," Layla said fiercely, pulling away from his touch, her maternal instincts fighting through her terror. "You don't want this, Dominic. You're marrying Camilla. Your life is... it's a war zone. I just saw people try to shoot us in a diner. I won't let my babies grow up in a world where they have to dodge bullets."
Dominic’s expression hardened, the awe evaporating back into the lethal coldness of the Boss. "You don't have a choice anymore, Layla. The bullets weren't meant for me tonight. My car breaking down was a fluke. If I hadn't walked into that diner, you would be dead right now."
Layla stared at him, the blood draining from her already pale face. "What? Why would anyone want to kill me?"
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"Because in my world, an heir is power. An illegitimate heir is a threat." Dominic pulled a burner phone from his pocket, rapidly typing out a secure message. "Someone found out about you. Someone with enough money and muscle to order a hit on a public street. I'm going to find out who it is, and I am going to tear their empire down to the foundation."
He looked at her, his dark eyes promising a violence that made her shiver all over again. "From this moment on, you belong to the Gallow family. And I protect what is mine."
