Chapter 4

DOMINIC

Elena Falcone had the audacity to slap me. It wasn’t just the slap itself that got to me; it was the fact that she didn’t flinch—didn’t cower, even with a gun in my hand. The slap was still fresh on my mind and I could still feel it sting not on my cheek, but somewhere deeper—my pride maybe.

I sat in Vincenzo’s ornate mansion, the room filled with the sound of his voice as he went on about God knows what. I wasn’t paying attention. My capos were nodding along, probably catching every word, but my mind was elsewhere. Elena.

First she’d bumped into me at the club and barely apologized, like I wasn’t worth her time. And now, she’d slapped me, walked away in the rain, and didn’t so much as glance back. No one would ever dare that and live to tell the tale, but here I was, letting her get away with it. Twice.

I could feel my capos occasionally steal glances at me, probably wondering why I hadn’t reacted, and I didn’t blame them. Even I couldn’t explain it. Maybe it was her boldness, or maybe it was the fact that she didn’t care who I was. She wasn’t even afraid and somehow that seemed to intrigue me more than I cared to admit.

“Dominic?” Vincenzo’s voice cut through my thoughts like a knife.

“What?” I asked, trying to sound like I’d been listening.

Vincenzo chuckled lightly, but there was an edge to it. “What do you think?”

“I didn’t catch that. Say it again.”

He frowned subtly but repeated himself, his tone slower this time, “I asked if you’d like to meet my daughters now.”

My gaze then drifted to the window. The storm was still raging outside as the rain hammered against the glass. I smirked to myself thinking about Elena. If she hadn’t been so stubborn, I just might’ve offered her a ride. But no, she had to wander off into the storm like the little brat she was.

I turned back to Vincenzo, nodding slightly. “Sure. Why not?”

He then motioned to one of his men. “Go fetch them.”

I leaned back into my chair as the guard left the room, watching as Vincenzo poured himself another glass of wine. He seemed calm—collected—like he always had everything under control, but I could see right through the cracks in his demeanor. He wanted something from me, and I intended to make him work for it.

A few minutes later the guard returned, but he wasn’t alone. He walked in with a young woman by his side—tall, elegant, with dark hair and striking features.

“This is my eldest daughter Rachele,” Vincenzo said, pride evident in his voice.

She shook my hand lightly, her expression polite but distant. It was clear she was used to these formal introductions, probably had them all the time.

After a brief moment, Vincenzo then turned to the guard. “And Elena? Where is she?”

The guard hesitated, shaking his head. “I couldn’t find her inside sir.”

Vincenzo’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything right away. I wasn’t surprised. There was no way Elena would’ve made it back yet, not in this weather.

“My apologies,” Vincenzo said, now turning back to me. “My youngest, Elena, isn’t here right now. I’m sure she’ll return soon.”

I let out a low chuckle, glancing at the storm outside again. “No problem,” I said casually. “But I think we should hold off on our discussion until both of your daughters are present.”

Vincenzo raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that response. “You’re certain about that?”

“Absolutely,” I replied, my tone firm. “It’s only fair, don’t you think?”

He nodded slowly, probably trying to figure out my angle. “Very well. We’ll continue when Elena is here.”

Without another word, I stood up. My capos followed suit, and together, we made our way out of the mansion.

As we stepped into the storm, I couldn’t help but think about Elena again. She’d challenged me, insulted me, and now she was out there somewhere, drenched and probably fuming. And for some reason, that thought made me smirk.

I wasn’t done with her. Not yet.

* * * * * * * *

ELENA

The second I stepped into the living room—soaked to the bone, I knew I was in trouble. My father sat in his usual spot—his expression as cold and hard as stone, and Rachele sat beside him, her arms crossed and her lips curled into a smug little smirk. It was just as if they had both been waiting for me all along.

“And where the hell do you think you’re coming from?” My father’s voice cut through the air like a whip.

I paused just inside the doorway, water dripping onto the floor as my eyes flicked to Rachele first—her scornful glare practically dared me to say something smart—and then back to my father. I swallowed the lump in my throat and answered as calmly as I could.

“I went for a jog papa,” I said, keeping my tone polite. “But then the rain started, so I had to find shelter until it let up.” I deliberately left out everything else—Mason, the thugs, all of it.

My father’s eyes narrowed. “What is wrong with you?” he snapped. “Are you just that disobedient? Or do you think you can just ignore my rules whenever it suits you?”

The frustration that had been building all day bubbled to the surface. “Why did you tell the guards to lock us in today?” I asked, my voice sharp. “Why do you always do this to me!?”

“Elena!” he barked, his voice booming through the room.

I flinched but didn’t look at him. I stared off to the side, biting my lip, but I could feel his anger radiating toward me.

“When did you start talking to me in such a manner?” His voice now cold as his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

I frowned, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Dominic just left this house,” he said, his tone sharp and accusing. “Do you know why? Because I couldn’t finalize our deal. And do you know why that is? Because of you!”

I froze. “Me?” I said, completely thrown off. “Since when does my being here or not being here affect your meetings? I don’t understand. Besides, you’ve always been the one to tell us to stay clear from Dominic.”

His fist slammed down on the arm of his chair, and I jumped. “There’s a marriage alliance!” he bellowed. “And you, are the one I have in mind for Dominic.”

I felt my heart stop beating in an instant. My father’s words had hit me like a freight train and all I did was stare at him, trying to process what the hell he had just said.

“W—what?!” I stammered. “You’re trying to marry me off to Dominic?”

His expression didn’t soften. If anything, his eyes burned with even more intensity. “Yes,” he said firmly. “You will marry Dominic whether you like it or not, that’s final.”

I felt like the floor had been ripped out from under me. “You can’t be serious papa,” I whispered, shaking my head. “You can’t just decide something like this without even asking me!”

He leaned forward, his voice low and menacing. “You will do as you’re told Elena. You will not bring shame to this family.”

I couldn’t say anything else because my throat felt tight and my chest ached. He didn’t wait for a response anyway. He stood abruptly—his movements sharp and angry—and stormed out of the room.

My eyes followed him until he disappeared, and then they landed on Rachele. She was still sitting there, looking like the cat who ate the canary.

“Well,” she said, standing up and walking toward me slowly. Her tone was dripping with sarcasm. “Lucky you. At least he looks like he’ll be… thrilling in bed.”

My jaw clenched, but I didn’t say anything. She laughed, clearly enjoying herself, and then strolled out of the room, leaving me standing there, soaked and stunned.

I could feel my legs trembling as I turned and headed upstairs to my room. My father’s words echoed in my head, over and over again.

You will marry Dominic.

Tears blurred my vision as I made it to my room and shut the door behind me. I couldn’t hold them back any longer. How could he do this? How could my father decide something so important without even talking to me first?