Chapter 3

At two in the morning, I jolted awake from a nightmare.

I couldn't breathe.

An invisible hand was crushing my chest. I had forgotten how to inhale. I gasped violently for air.

Moonlight leaked through the gap in the curtains. My shadow trembled and twisted against the wall.

Gunfire roared in my ears, wave after wave.

Bang—bang—bang—

I knew what this was. Another panic attack.

My mind was sinking into that night I had tried so hard to forget.

The first time I truly understood the world of the Falcones.

A narrow alley. Bullets punching through the car windows. The hiss of a tire deflating.

The moment the car flipped onto its side, my forehead slammed into the window frame, and my vision exploded into stars.

Dominic shoved me down beneath the seat, his palm pressing hard against the back of my neck.

He whispered, barely audible, over and over: "Don't move. Don't make a sound."

Outside, someone was screaming his name—mixed with wild laughter and curses.

The next second, bullets raked across the car door with a shriek that set my teeth on edge.

For the first time in my life, I understood how close death could be.

All I remember is clutching his sleeve like my life depended on it.

When Dominic dragged me out of the wreck, blood was running down his arm. The warm liquid dripped from his wrist into my palm.

He returned fire with one hand and used his body to shield me against the wall.

He was protecting me with his own flesh.

His world was a pit of danger.

But I didn't run.

Because I loved him.

After the gunfire stopped, we hid in a safe house.

The lights were dim. The curtains were drawn. Outside, scattered chaos still echoed.

I sat on the floor, my hands shaking too hard to hold the glass of water.

Dominic crouched in front of me and gently wiped the blood and dust from my face with his sleeve.

Looking at me tremble, he couldn't help but laugh. "I warned you—getting close to me comes at a price."

"Still want to be with me?"

"Is now really the time for this?!" I snapped. "You're bleeding everywhere... and it's all because you were protecting me..."

My voice broke, and I couldn't finish.

Dominic leaned down and kissed me. "Relax. As long as I'm here, you'll be fine."

I looked at him, my voice shaking: "Am I... a burden to you?"

Something flickered in his eyes. "Victoria, actually..."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring, then dropped to one knee before me.

The ring wasn't even in a box. There was a fresh scratch along its edge.

He said: "Victoria. Marry me."

I nodded through my tears. After he slid the ring onto my finger, he swore under his breath: "Damn those bastards! They ruined my whole proposal dinner!"

In that moment, I had only one thought: I would follow this man forever.

So I plunged into a world completely foreign to me: dirty money, cooked books, offshore companies, deals that could never see the light of day, "cleaning" in the most literal sense.

At first, I understood none of it.

But I learned fast.

From a woman who only knew how to be in love, I became the negotiator who could make or break a deal with a single glance at a balance sheet.

Eventually, I became the family's Chief Financial Officer.

Everything was perfect.

Except that after that ambush, I developed panic disorder.

I would wake in the dead of night, hearing gunshots that weren't there, fumbling through the darkness for his arm just to make sure he was still beside me.

He never grew impatient.

Even when work kept him up until dawn, he would tiptoe in, not even daring to take off his jacket, and sit at the edge of the bed until I stirred from my fitful sleep.

He would murmur: "It's me. You're safe."

Only when my breathing steadied would he get up to wash.

Dominic—he used to keep watch over me almost every night.

But for the past two years, he had been staying out until morning.

"Dominic..." I called out weakly.

No one answered.

I realized he wasn't coming home tonight either.

I had to save myself.

Cold sweat drenched my body. My heart pounded so hard it threatened to crack my ribs open. Acid surged up my throat, and I clamped a hand over my mouth.

I called Leon, my private physician.

"Victoria?" His voice sharpened instantly. "Another episode?"

Leon's steady cadence pulled me back from the brink.

Ten minutes later, I finally clawed my way out of that dark alley and returned to this opulent, frozen bedroom.

I swallowed my pills. My heartbeat began to slow.

I leaned against the headboard, too drained to do anything else.

Leon asked, "Where's the Godfather?"

I said nothing.

He didn't press. He only sighed. "Victoria, you need someone with you. Not every time will be this lucky."

I knew that.

I thanked him and hung up.

The room fell silent again.

As my nerves settled, I picked up my phone. A Twitter notification waited for me.

Selena had posted half an hour ago.

The photo showed her half-reclining in a sickbed, face pale. In the frame, a hand reached toward her, lifting a spoonful of oatmeal porridge.

Caption: When someone who loves you is by your side, even a fever feels like a blessing.

On that hand was our wedding ring.

It was Dominic.

A bitter smile tugged at my lips.

Dominic was no longer the man who kept vigil through the nights when nightmares tore me apart.

He hadn't been that man for a long time.