Chapter 5 - Unspoken Rules
For three days, the Castile estate operated like a war room under siege.
Dominic was rarely present during the day, leaving early in armored convoys and returning late into the night. When he was home, the low rumble of intense strategy meetings echoed from his study until the early hours of the morning.
Sadie spent her days exploring the vast estate, though her freedom was strictly limited by the heavy security detail. Four armed guards under Carmine’s command kept constant watch on her movements. Everywhere she went—the library, the vast gardens, the indoor pool—a silent sentinel remained twenty paces behind.
Despite the luxury surrounding her, Sadie felt stifled. She was accustomed to working fourteen hours a day, constantly moving, fighting for every dollar. Sitting in a mansion surrounded by priceless art while a mob war raged outside was driving her insane.
On the fourth evening, unable to sleep, Sadie walked down to the estate's massive commercial kitchen. The house was quiet, the staff having retired for the night.
She opened the industrial refrigerator, pulled out some ingredients, and began preparing a simple pot of chicken noodle soup. Cooking had always been her coping mechanism—a lingering habit from her nursing days when she cooked meal-prep boxes to save money.
She was carefully chopping carrots on a heavy butcher block when a quiet sound made her turn.
Dominic stood in the doorway of the kitchen.
He looked exhausted. His dark jacket was gone, his tie loosened, and the top two buttons of his crisp white shirt were undone. A faint bruise marred the high bone of his left cheek, and his sleeves were rolled up, revealing the intricate ink along his forearms.
"You're awake," Dominic said, his voice rough with fatigue.
"I couldn't sleep," Sadie replied, lowering her knife. She looked at his face. "You're hurt."
Dominic scoffed softly, walking into the kitchen and leaning against the island opposite her. "It's nothing. Just a disagreement at the docks."
Sadie washed her hands at the sink, drying them carefully on a towel. She reached into a nearby medical kit that Mrs. Gable kept in the pantry and walked over to him.
"Sit," she commanded softly, pointing to a high stool at the kitchen island.
Dominic looked at her with mild amusement, but he obeyed, lowering his large frame onto the stool.
Sadie pulled a sterile antiseptic wipe from the kit and stepped between his knees. The sudden physical proximity sent a subtle shockwave through her, but she forced herself to remain professional. She leaned in, gently dabbing the wipe against the cut on his cheekbone.
Dominic went perfectly still. His dark eyes tracked her face as she worked, taking in the small dusting of freckles across her nose and the focused determination in her brown eyes.
"You have good hands," Dominic murmured, his voice low and raspy in the quiet kitchen. "Gentle. But firm."
"I was almost a nurse," Sadie reminded him softly, holding his gaze as she applied a thin layer of healing ointment. "I spent three years learning how to patch up people who got themselves into stupid trouble."
"Is that what I am? Stupid trouble?"
"You're a mob boss who gets shot at on a daily basis," Sadie said, stepping back slightly, though she didn't leave the circle of his knees. "I'd say that qualifies."
Dominic reached out, his long fingers wrapping gently around her wrist—careful not to squeeze her healing injuries. "The war with the Morettis will be over soon, Sadie. I am closing their avenues of revenue. Their allies are abandoning them."
"And what happens to me when it's over?" Sadie asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do I just go back to my empty life? Or have you decided I belong in this gilded cage forever?"
Dominic pulled her half an inch closer. The air between them grew thick with unspoken tension, charged with an electric friction that had been building since the moment he stepped into her hallway.
"You don't belong in a cage, Sadie," Dominic said, his eyes darkening with an intensity that made her breath hitch. "And your old life wasn't empty—it was just unfair to someone as brave as you. But if you think I will let you disappear back into the shadows after this... you don't know me at all."
"Dominic..."
"I don't let go of things that are precious to me," he added, his thumb brushing over the soft skin of her inner wrist. "And you saved the most precious thing in my life."
Before Sadie could answer, the heavy double doors of the kitchen opened. Carmine stepped in, holding an encrypted tablet. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the intimate position of his boss and Sadie.
Carmine cleared his throat awkwardly. "Boss... sorry to interrupt. We have a track on Marco Moretti's primary safehouse. He's preparing to leave the country."
Dominic’s expression hardened instantly. The tender moment evaporated, replaced once again by the lethal leader of the Castile empire. He released Sadie’s wrist smoothly and stood up.
"Where?" Dominic asked Carmine.
"An estate near Lake Geneva. He's moving tonight."
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Dominic turned back to Sadie, looking down at her with a dark, promise-filled gaze. "Stay here tonight, Sadie. Tomorrow, this ends."
He turned and strode out of the kitchen with Carmine, leaving Sadie alone with the bubbling pot of soup and a heart that was pounding wildly against her ribs.
