Chapter 3 - Chloe’s Secret and the Golden Cage
I hesitated for three long seconds before sliding the brass chain out of its slot and pulling the door open.
The contrast was almost comical. Dominic Salvatore, worth hundreds of millions of dollars, stood in the doorway of a five-hundred-square-foot apartment that smelled of old radiator steam and lemon floor cleaner.
"You didn't have to buy the entire building to stop him," I whispered, crossing my arms over my chest defensively.
"It was the most efficient solution," he replied, stepping across the threshold without waiting for an invitation. He looked around the small living room—the threadbare sofa, the small plastic table with two folding chairs, the neat stack of library books in the corner. His expression remained completely neutral, passing no judgment. "Efficiency saves time. And time is something we do not have."
"Mommy?"
A small, sleepy voice drifted from the bedroom doorway.
Chloe stood there in her faded pink pajamas, rubbing her eyes with one fist and clutching a battered plush rabbit named Barnaby with the other. Her dark curls were a messy halo around her sweet, pale face. But as she took a breath, a faint, telltale wheeze rattled in her small chest.
Dominic froze.
The man who had just bankrupted a ruthless landlord without blinking looked at my daughter as if he had never seen a child before. For a second, his lethal aura vanished completely.
"Chloe," I said softly, stepping between them instinctively. "Go back into bed for a few minutes, baby. Mommy is talking to a visitor."
"Is he a prince?" Chloe asked innocently, staring at Dominic's sharp dark suit and shiny leather shoes. "He looks like the prince from the Cinderella book."
A microscopic twitch appeared at the corner of Dominic’s lips. Slowly, deliberately, the most feared crime boss in the city crouched down on one knee, bringing his eye level down to my five-year-old daughter.
"Not a prince, little one," Dominic said, his deep voice remarkably gentle. "Just someone who owes your mother a very large favor."
Chloe tilted her head, studying him with the brutal honesty of a child. "Mommy said favors are when you help someone without asking for a cookie."
"Your mother is a very wise woman," Dominic replied smoothly.
I cleared my throat, my protective instincts flaring up. "Chloe, go brush your teeth, please."
Chloe nodded obediently and scurried into the tiny bathroom, shutting the door behind her.
Once she was out of earshot, Dominic stood up, his face hardening back into business mode. "Her breathing," he said, fixing his gaze on me. "It's not just asthma, is it?"
My heart squeezed painfully. I looked down at the linoleum floor, ashamed of my inability to provide what my child needed most.
"She has an atrial septal defect," I admitted quietly, the words tasting like ash. "A hole in her heart. She was born with it. The doctors said it might close on its own, but at her last checkup, they said it was enlarging. She needs corrective surgery before she turns six, or it will cause irreversible pulmonary hypertension."
"And the cost?" Dominic asked.
"Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars," I said, a bitter laugh escaping my throat. "My diner insurance doesn't cover specialized pediatric cardiac surgeons. I've applied for three different state assistance programs, but the waiting list is fourteen months long. She doesn't have fourteen months."
Dominic reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He tapped the screen twice and held it to his ear.
"Marcus," Dominic said into the receiver. "Contact Dr. Jeffrey Vance at Boston Children's Hospital. Tell him he is clearing his surgical schedule for next month. He has a priority patient. An atrial septal reconstruction." A brief pause. "Full coverage under my private account. Ensure the surgical suite and pediatric ICU are prepped."
He hung up before whoever was on the other end could even reply.
I stared at him in utter shock, tears spilling over my eyelashes before I could stop them. "What... what did you just do?"
"I settled the first installment of my debt," Dominic said calmly, slipping the phone back into his coat. "Dr. Vance is the foremost pediatric cardiac surgeon on the eastern seaboard. He will examine Chloe tomorrow morning."
"I can't accept that," I sobbed, shaking my head even as my heart screamed at me to take it for Chloe's sake. "That's... that's too much. I can't owe you something like that. Men like you don't do things for free."
Dominic stepped closer, his obsidian eyes burning with a fierce, dark intensity that rooted me to the spot.
"You pulled me out of an incinerator with your bare hands, Emma Hayes," he said, his voice dropping low, vibrates with absolute conviction. "You saved my life without knowing my name, without asking for reward, and without hesitation. You gave me my life back. The very least I can do is give your daughter hers."
Before I could speak, his gaze turned cold and strategic.
"However, there is a condition."
May you like
My stomach tightened. "I knew it."
"Pack your bags," Dominic commanded. "Both of yours. My security team detected two scouting vehicles belonging to the Rossi family circling your block twenty minutes ago. They haven't confirmed your identity yet, but they know someone pulled me from that car. You and Chloe are leaving this apartment within the hour. You are moving into my private residence."
