Chapter 2 - The Honest Question
The ballroom fell into an even deeper hush as Dominic’s words hung in the air. Nora looked as though she wanted the marble floor to open up and swallow her whole. She yanked gently on Leo’s arm, her voice tight with panic. “We are leaving, Leo. Right now. Apologize to the gentleman.” “It’s fine, Mrs. Bennett,” Dominic said, his voice level and steady. He kept his dark eyes fixed on the little boy in the bright yellow raincoat. “Most adults are too polite or too terrified to ask, but children possess a rare kind of courage. My spine was damaged in a shooting four months ago. The nerves don't talk to my feet anymore. That’s why I sit.” Leo processed this information with the solemn gravity unique to a six-year-old. “Does it hurt?” he asked softly. Dominic felt a strange tightness contract around his heart—a sensation he hadn't felt since before the bullets tore through his back. “Sometimes,” Dominic admitted, surprising even himself. “Mostly, it just makes things very quiet.” Leo looked around the massive, empty ballroom, taking in the towering ceilings, the five hundred vacant chairs, and the untouched six-tier cake. “It’s too quiet,” the boy observed. “A birthday shouldn't be quiet. You need music. And people.” Nora closed her eyes in pure mortification. “Mr. Russo, please accept my apologies. He has no filter. We shouldn't have intruded.” She reached for the pink bakery box, but Dominic raised a gloved hand, stopping her. “Leave the cake, Mrs. Bennett.” “Sir, I already got paid—” “Leave the box,” Dominic repeated, his tone shifting into the undeniable authority of a boss. “And open it.” Nora hesitated, her protective instincts warring with her exhaustion. Slowly, she untied the pink ribbon and lifted the cardboard lid. Inside sat a magnificent chocolate fudge cake with white buttercream frosting and forty tiny wax candles, flickering bravely against the gloom of the massive ballroom. “You brought candles,” Dominic noted, staring at the warm, glowing flames. “The bakery includes them for milestone birthdays,” Nora muttered defensively. “Fortieth counts, I suppose.” Dominic looked up from the cake to Nora, seeing the quiet resilience carved into the lines of her face. She wasn't part of his world of syndicates, betrayal, and bloodshed. She was a woman fighting tooth and nail to survive in a city that chewed people up and spat them out. “Tony,” Dominic called out. “Yes, Boss?” “Get a knife from the kitchen. And bring three plates.” Tony blinked in astonishment. “Plates, Boss? For us?” “Did I stutter?” Dominic turned his wheelchair toward the head table. “Sit down, Mrs. Bennett. And keep your son out of trouble. It’s my birthday, and for the first time tonight, I have guests.” Nora blinked, caught completely off guard by the abrupt shift in the evening. She looked at the empty room, then at Dominic’s intense, unyielding gaze, and slowly let out a breath. Pulling out a heavy mahogany chair, she sat down, pulling Leo onto her lap. For the next hour, there were no string quartets, no politicians, and no treacherous capos. There was only a paralyzed mob boss, an exhausted single mother, a little boy eating chocolate cake, and a loyal bodyguard standing guard at the door, watching over a strange, fragile island of peace in the middle of a war zone.
