This is a modal window.
Beginning of dialog window. Escape will cancel and close the window.
End of dialog window.
“What are you going to do?”
Dominic’s voice was careful now.
Measured.
The way men speak when they realize the woman in front of them is no longer standing where they left her.
I looked down at his phone glowing in my hand.
Twenty-six missed calls.
Three captains from the East Side crews.
Two senators’ aides.
One message from his consigliere marked urgent.
And beneath all of them—
A text from Madison Vale.
She knows nothing. Handle your wife before breakfast.
I smiled.
Small.
Deadly.
Then I handed Dominic his phone.
“I’m going to sleep,” I said.
His eyes sharpened instantly. “Grace—”
“Oh, don’t worry,” I interrupted softly. “I’m not going to embarrass you online. Apparently your mistress already covered that.”
“She is not my—”
“Stop saying that,” I snapped.
The force in my voice cut through the penthouse like broken glass.
For the first time in years, Dominic actually looked startled.
Not angry.
Not defensive.
Afraid.
Because he realized something terrible.
I was calm.
And calm women in powerful families were infinitely more dangerous than screaming ones.
“You think I care about the affair?” I asked quietly. “That’s the least interesting thing happening tonight.”
His jaw tightened.
Outside, dawn still hid below the Chicago skyline, but I could already feel the city shifting. Gossip spreading through country clubs and courthouse hallways. Men in expensive suits whispering over bourbon.
The mighty Russo marriage cracking at the seams.
Exactly what Madison wanted.
Except Madison had made one catastrophic mistake.
She thought I was only Dominic’s wife.
She had no idea whose daughter I really was.
Dominic stepped closer. “Grace, listen to me carefully. The people around Madison are dangerous.”
I laughed softly. “You mean more dangerous than your family?”
“Yes.”
That answer came too fast.
Too honest.
And suddenly every strange thing from the past six months rearranged itself inside my head like puzzle pieces locking into place.
The secret meetings.
The federal pressure.
The late-night calls.
The sudden interest in port contracts.
Madison Vale was not sleeping with my husband for attention.
She was hunting him.
I saw Dominic realize I understood.
And that frightened him more than the photo ever could.
“She approached you,” I said slowly.
He didn’t answer.
“She got close on purpose.”
Silence.
Then finally:
The word barely left his mouth.
I stared at him.