CHAPTER 10
762 Words
After few weeks ....
The wind howled between the tall trees that lined the estate.
Dominic stood tall in front of the grand entrance of his mansion, one arm outstretched slightly, shielding Clara behind him. His black shirt hugged his frame, sleeves rolled to his elbows, veins taut, his gun raised and steady. His eyes—cold steel—were fixed on the man across the gate.
Viktor Ivanov.
Dominic’s longtime enemy.
Behind Viktor stood his men, weapons loaded, all of them aiming at Dominic's chest.
Clara gripped the back of Dominic’s shirt tightly, her breath shallow. She could hear her heartbeat louder than the threats being exchanged. But she didn’t cry. She didn’t scream. She just stayed behind him—because somehow, even now, she knew he would never let anything touch her.
“Step aside, Petrov,” Viktor snarled, taking a step forward, c*****g his gun.
“This isn’t about her.”
Dominic’s voice was low, deadly calm.
“She’s mine. You make it about her, you die for it.”
The corner of Viktor’s mouth twitched.
“You're willing to take a bullet for a woman?”
Dominic didn’t blink.
“No. I’m willing to kill for her.”
He pulled Clara closer to his side, his arm firm around her waist. She could feel the tension in his body. The silent countdown. The trigger waiting to snap.
The guns clicked.
Everything froze.
Then—
Bang.
A single shot tore through the silence.
Viktor’s eyes widened in shock before his knees buckled. He collapsed forward into the dirt, blood blooming on his temple. His gun dropped from his hand, lifeless.
Everyone turned in confusion.
And there stood Gusto Vincent, lowering his sniper calmly from a distance, stepping out of the trees near the estate wall. His trench coat fluttered behind him, and beside him walked Runnip, silent and alert, eyes never leaving Clara.
“Too slow, Dom,” Gusto said, chewing gum.
“Thought I’d handle the trash for you.”
Dominic exhaled, just once, and tucked his gun away.
He turned to Clara, brushing her hair from her face gently.
“Are you hurt?”
She shook her head, her eyes still locked on him
The echo of gunfire still hung in the air, but inside the mansion, all was quiet.
Dominic had walked Clara in with a hand on her back, never once letting her go. His men cleaned up outside. Gusto and Runnip stayed at the estate gates to ensure no more threats lingered in the shadows.
Clara didn’t speak as they reached the bedroom. Her heels clicked softly against the marble floor until he shut the door behind them with a soft but firm thud.
Dominic turned to her.
And for the first time that day, his eyes weren’t cold—they were burning.
“Come here,” he whispered.
She took a hesitant step toward him, but he didn’t wait. He reached for her waist, pulling her in, resting his forehead against hers. His voice was barely audible.
“I could’ve lost you.”
She blinked, her hands resting on his chest.
“But you didn’t.”
He looked down at her, lips parted, voice still low.
“You don’t understand. That bullet… could’ve been for you. And if it was—”
He stopped himself. His jaw clenched.
She touched his cheek gently, her thumb brushing the edge of his stubble.
“But it wasn’t. You stood in front of me.”
His hands tightened at her waist.
“Because I’d take a thousand bullets if it meant you’d be okay.”
Clara stood on her toes and kissed him. Not desperate. Not rushed. Just slow, deep, and grateful.
Dominic kissed her back, his hands pressing her closer, and they stumbled together to the bed. He sat down, pulling her into his lap. Her dress slipped slightly off her shoulder, and his lips followed that trail—slow kisses from her collarbone to her throat.
“I’ve killed for you,” he murmured against her skin, voice shaking.
“Now I’m afraid I’d die for you.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, heart pounding.
“Then live for me.”
“Stay with me.”
Dominic nodded, kissing her again—this time harder, deeper, filled with heat and everything he hadn’t said all these days.
Outside the window, the night was quiet. The danger had passed.
And inside the room, it was only the two of them.
Dominic Petrov, mafia king—undone by the woman he’d die to protect.
- Writer
