Chapter 8 - THE SECURED SANCTUARY
The flight back to Chicago was a blur of medical monitors and quiet whispers.
Dominic’s private jet had been converted into a mobile clinic, a team of two specialists and a nurse waiting for us the moment we boarded at a quiet, private strip in Rhode Island.
Dominic sat in the seat opposite her, his shoulder bandaged and his arm in a sling, his eyes fixed on her face as the doctor adjusted Meline’s IV line.
"Her blood pressure is stabilizing," Dr. Thorne said, looking at Dominic with a professional respect that suggested he knew exactly who was paying his salary. "The beta-blocker is working. But she needs complete bed rest, Mr. Valente. No stress. No running. We need to monitor her aortic root diameter every week until the delivery."
"She’ll have whatever she needs," Dominic said.
"Where are we going?" Meline asked, her voice weak from the medication.
"To the Geneva estate," Dominic said. "It’s off the grid. The Duca family doesn't know about it. It has a private medical wing, Meline. You’ll have the best doctors in Europe living on the property."
"And you?" she asked, looking at his bandaged shoulder.
"I have to clean up Chicago," he said, his voice turning cold. "The Duca alliance is finished. They tried to kill my family, Meline. In my world, that is a declaration of war."
"I don't want a war, Dominic," she said, her hand reaching out to touch his knee. "I just want to be safe."
Dominic placed his large hand over hers, his eyes softening. "The only way you are safe, Meline, is if I finish this. I have to show them that nothing touches what is mine."
The plane descended through the gray clouds over Lake Michigan, landing at a private hangar near Midway Airport.
A convoy of five armored SUVs was waiting on the tarmac.
But as the plane doors opened, a black limousine with New York plates pulled onto the runway, blocking our path.
The rear door opened.
And Seraphina Duca stepped out.
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She was dressed in a long, black mink coat, her dark hair immaculate despite the wind. But her red lips were pulled into a tight, hard line, her eyes flashing with a dangerous, quiet anger.
"Dominic," she said, walking toward the steps of the plane. "We need to talk."
