Chapter 8 - The Child in the Back Seat
Rafael reached Lily’s room first.
Empty.
The window was open.
Maria lay unconscious beside the bed, breathing but injured.
Dominic arrived seconds later.
He saw the empty bed.
Something inside him broke.
“Lily!”
Norah heard him from down the hall.
She knew before anyone told her.
Her hand covered her mouth.
“No.”
Marco found the security footage.
Victor had used an old emergency credential to enter through a service corridor. Maria fought him.
Victor took Lily.
A highway camera captured his vehicle traveling north.
Toward the lake house.
Dominic loaded a weapon.
Norah stepped in front of him.
“No.”
“Move.”
“You go there furious, Victor controls you.”
“He has my daughter.”
“And that is why you need a plan.”
Dominic looked almost feral.
Rafael stepped between them.
“She’s right.”
Dominic turned on him.
“If Lily dies—”
“She won't.”
“You don't know that.”
“No.”
Rafael’s voice hardened.
“But I know Victor.”
He explained.
Victor had spent nineteen years obsessed with rewriting the Russo family history.
The lake house was symbolic.
“He wants you there because he wants to recreate the night Dad died.”
Dominic stared.
“Then he gets me.”
Norah grabbed his arm.
“Dominic.”
He looked at her.
“If it were this baby?”
The question destroyed every argument.
Norah released him.
“I’d burn the world down.”
“Exactly.”
“But I’d still bring backup.”
That earned the faintest smile.
Federal agents surrounded the lake property but remained hidden beyond the trees.
Dominic and Rafael approached alone.
Inside, Lily sat on the staircase.
Victor stood behind her.
She was crying.
“Daddy.”
Dominic's heart stopped.
“I’m here, Bug.”
“Come get me.”
“I will.”
Victor held a gun.
“You always were his favorite,” he told Dominic.
“Let her go.”
“Your father said the same thing about you. Dominic will handle it. Dominic will inherit. Dominic is strong.”
Rafael stepped forward.
“This was never about us.”
Victor looked at him.
“It was always about Antonio.”
Dominic finally understood.
Victor had lived his entire life beneath his older brother.
Their father’s empire.
Their father’s sons.
Their father’s legacy.
Victor had destroyed the family because he wanted to prove Antonio had built nothing that could survive without him.
Dominic lowered his weapon.
“You win.”
Rafael stared at him.
Victor smiled.
Dominic continued.
“The organization is finished.”
Victor’s smile vanished.
“The accounts are frozen. The records are federal evidence. The businesses are being separated.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I already did.”
“You destroyed your inheritance.”
“No.”
Dominic looked at Lily.
“I finally understood it.”
Victor raised his weapon.
Dominic moved.
Rafael moved faster.
The gun fired.
Lily screamed.
Dominic reached her and threw himself over her.
Another shot.
Then silence.
Federal agents stormed the house.
Victor lay wounded but alive.
Rafael stood nearby, blood spreading across his shoulder.
Dominic held Lily tightly.
“I’ve got you.”
She sobbed against him.
“Daddy, I was scared.”
“So was I.”
“You get scared?”
Dominic closed his eyes.
“All the time.”
That answer calmed her more than a lie would have.
At the hospital, Rafael’s injury proved survivable.
Victor was placed under federal guard.
Dominic sat beside Lily until she slept.
Norah entered quietly.
He looked up.
She crossed the room.
Dominic stood.
Then Norah slapped him.
Not hard.
But enough.
He blinked.
“That’s for walking into a hostage situation.”
“Fair.”
She hugged him immediately afterward.
“And that’s for bringing her back.”
Dominic held her.
His hands trembled.
Weeks passed.
Victor’s network collapsed.
Dominic provided evidence through attorneys and negotiated his own cooperation.
There were no magical erasures.
No clean slate.
Dominic had done illegal things.
He would face legal scrutiny.
But the cycle was ending.
Rafael entered a cooperation agreement of his own.
The brothers began the awkward process of learning how to exist without being enemies.
Norah’s pregnancy reached twenty-eight weeks.
Then thirty.
Then thirty-four.
Every week felt like victory.
Dominic attended every appointment.
He asked questions.
Too many questions.
At thirty-six weeks, the doctor finally laughed.
“Mr. Russo, women have been giving birth without your supervision for thousands of years.”
“I’m aware.”
“You don't appear aware.”
Norah grinned.
“Welcome to my life.”
That night, Dominic assembled a crib.
Badly.
Norah leaned in the doorway.
“You own a construction company.”
“I own shares in a construction company.”
“The distinction has never been clearer.”
He glared at the instructions.
Norah laughed.
Dominic looked up.
For several seconds, he simply watched her.
“What?”
“I like that sound.”
“What sound?”
“You laughing in my house.”
Her smile softened.
“Our house?”
He hesitated.
“If you want.”
Norah walked toward him.
“Ask properly.”
Dominic sighed.
“Norah, would you consider making this your home?”
She kissed his cheek.
“I’ll consider it.”
At 3:14 the following morning, Norah shook him awake.
“Dominic.”
He opened one eye.
“What?”
“My water broke.”
He sat upright instantly.
“Now?”
“No, I scheduled it for Thursday.”
Dominic stared.
Norah groaned as the first contraction came.
His face went white.
“Oh God.”
She grabbed his hand.
“Congratulations, mafia genius.”
May you like
Another contraction tightened.
“It’s time.”
