“Morning, Elle darling,” Sam greets, leaning down to kiss her cheek. Reckless. Infuriating. My wife glances back at me, and the air between us thickens with unspoken tension.
“You’re heading to work? We can go together,” he offered. “I’ll be taking my wife,” I said firmly as I stepped into the doorway, positioning myself between them. Sliding an arm overElle’s shoulder, I pulled her back against my chest—a reminder of where she belonged.
Sam’s only response was a raised brow and a grin, clearly amused by my display of possessiveness. “Sam, Dominic will come with me today. We’ll catch up later.” “Alright, darling.” The bastard blew her a kiss before leaving. He has a death wish.
As the door shut, Elle turned to me, arms folded. “What was that about?” “I don’t know what you mean.” “Sam is my friend, Dominic. We’ll talk about this later. I need to get to work and check on Dante.” She grabbed her bag and coat.
“Should you be working in your condition?” I asked. Elle froze mid-motion, her arm halfway in a sleeve. She shook her head, exasperated, rolling her eyes. “No, Dominic. I’m pregnant, not sick.” She finished dressing and headed for the door, not waiting to see if I followed—making it clear she intended to keep working, at least for now.
Chapter 49
~Elle~
The past five days have been nothing short of bliss. I can’t remember ever feeling this happy. After months of restless nights, I’ve finally been able to sleep soundly—night after night. The reason is simple: Dominic’s presence, his solid body curled protectively around mine.
Neither of us has brought up the subject of me returning to the mansion since the day we reconciled. To my surprise, he didn’t argue when I said I wanted to keep working. Perhaps he didn’t want to risk disturbing our fragile peace with a fight. Whatever the reason, I’m grateful.
I’m not ready to go back yet. Honestly, I expected Dominic to strong-arm me, to go full “caveman.” Another kidnapping would have been more his style—a trademark of the Vitelli men, one they’ve proven themselves skilled at.
Time alone has only strengthened our bond. The constant distractions of the mansion would have made this far more difficult. My only complaint is Dominic’s overprotectiveness—it could use some restraint. He insists on accompanying me to the hospital every day, visiting Dante, who was moved to a private room at Dominic’s request.
I pretend not to notice the guards whom he has stationed there though after what happened months ago, I understand why. Each day he disappears for a few hours to handle business, but Dario, Fabrio or Jimmy are always nearby. No matter where his work takes him, Dominic always returns in time to escort me home.
Now that everyone at the hospital knows that Dominic is my husband, some of my coworkers have begun treating me differently. The men keep their distance after one of hisinfamous death stares. The only one unfazed is Sam—the idiot who takes every chance to provoke Dominic, draping an arm around me, kissing my cheek, or calling me “darling.”
As for the female staff, they flock to Dominic and his men like bees to honey. But since the men remain oblivious, some of the women have turned hostile toward me.Time alone has strengthened our bond. The distractions at the mansion would have made this much more difficult.
Yesterday, I overheard Nurse Phillips whispering to one of the theater nurses,“She acts like she’s better than us just because she has a rich husband.”I walked right past them, pretending I hadn’t heard a word. Why waste my time on their pettiness, when I’m the one who gets to go home with Dominic every night?
His heated looks when we’re alone drive me wild. For the past five days, every touch has ignited a storm of desire—but he keeps holding back from letting our passion reach its natural conclusion.
I’m tired of being treated like fragile china. He always makes sure to bring me to release with his hands and mouth, but he refuses to go all the way. The restraint frustrates me.
I know that Dominic believes he’s protecting me. But tonight, I’ll take matters into my own hands. I’ll put an end to his endless cold showers, his misguided attempts to shield me for the sake of the baby and my well-being.
Last night we attended Lamaze class. The experience felt surreal—just as the visit to the obstetrician had earlier that day. I’ll never forget the look of awe on Dominic’s face, or the way his grip tightened around my hand as he listened to the steady rhythm of our baby’s heartbeat. Sharing that moment with him was a blessing, one that brought tears to my eyes.
My hormones have turned me into an emotional mess. I cry at the slightest provocation, and each time Dominic panics,convinced something is wrong. Just the other day, I craved ice cream—Macadamia Nut Brittle, of all things. When the nearby stores were out, I burst into tears. The meltdown shocked us both. Dominic didn’t hesitate; he scooped me into his arms and called Jimmy, who scoured Brooklyn until he finally tracked down my flavor.
Meanwhile, Dante’s recovery has been steady. He’s in pain, but refuses his medication, unwilling to endure the grogginess. Tomorrow he’ll be discharged. I haven’t told Dominic yet, but I’ve decided to return to the mansion once Dante is home. My leave request has already been approved.
I want us close to Dante while he heals. Something about him feels… off. I can’t quite name it. When I asked I sigh, glancing down at my swollen ankles. The doctor’s lounge is hushed at this late hour, the silence pressing in after my second twelve-hour shift this week. Dominic will be here any minute to take me home. He was right—working this deep into my pregnancy isn’t wise. But I’ve been stubborn, clinging to control, testing whether he would respect my choices. The way he’s adapted to my cramped little apartment, when he’s used to a mansion, has only made me love him more.
I’m well into my third trimester now, and the long hours are wearing me down. Tonight, I’ll finally tell him. My phone lights up, and I grin like a fool at his text:
Dominic: Waiting downstairs, Angel.
A second later:
Elle: On my way…
It takes longer than usual to push myself off the lounge sofa. By the time I’m standing, I’m breathless. I waddle toward the elevator just as Sam steps out onto the surgical floor for his night shift.
“Ready for your special night, Elle darling?” he teases. I blush, remembering how I enlisted his help yesterday.
“Yes. I don’t know why, but I’m nervous.”
“Girl, you’ve got this. I’m going to miss you,” he says warmly, giving me a gentle push into the elevator. “Your man is waiting for you downstairs.”
