“It doesn’t get more real,” he says, and I can hear the hope in his voice.
I'll need to resign. The thought brings surprising relief. I was already questioning my place at the FBI.
"Our child deserves parents who love each other," I say. "And I do love you, Dom. God help me, but I do."
The smile that breaks across his face is radiant and it makes me realize some lines are meant to be crossed, especially when they lead you home.
His lips find mine with fierce tenderness, sealing our impossible promise.
I melt against him, letting go of everything I thought defined me.
His hands cradle my face like I'm something precious, something worth risking everything for.
"We'll figure this out," he whispers against my mouth. "Together."
The world outside fades away. There's only Dom, only us, only this moment of choosing each other despite everything.
Our kiss tastes like rebellion and surrender all at once. Like crossing a line I never thought I'd cross, only to find myself exactly where I belong.
As we pull apart, the warehouse comes back into focus, including two deceased FBI agents.
Reality crashes back. "We need to call this in. Blackwood may be dead, but his crimes can't die with him. There's evidence to collect, accomplices to identify."
Dom's expression darkens. "And what exactly will you tell them? They'll assume you're covering for me."
"I have to try. There's a process?—"
"Process?" Dom steps back, frustration radiating off him. "The man kidnapped a child, murdered your father, and was about to kill both of us. He doesn’t deserve a process."
I run my hand through my hair. "That's exactly why we need to do this right. If we don't follow procedure now, everything he did stays buried. The families he hurt deserve justice."
"And what about our family?" Dom's voice softens as his hand finds my stomach again. "If you get tangled in this, they'll investigate every aspect of your life. Our relationship. They'll use it to discredit you. Maybe blame you."
He's right. My credibility would be questioned. My relationship with a known mafia don would taint any evidence I present.
"I can't just walk away. I took an oath."
"I'm not asking you to. I'm asking you to let me handle Blackwood and let someone else build a case against his network." Dom takes my hand. "I've got people."
I feel myself wavering. "Are these 'people' like my father? Cops on your payroll? More corruption?"
Dom doesn't flinch from the accusation. "Yes. Some of them are exactly like your father." His honesty doesn’t help.
"So I'm supposed to trade one corrupt system for another? Let you handle this your way while I pretend my hands are clean?"
“Sometimes justice needs different paths."
I turn away, my emotions threatening to overwhelm me. "I can't become what I've fought against my whole career."
"I'm not asking you to abandon justice," Dom says. "I'm asking you to trust that there are different ways to achieve it. This is about protecting our family."
I stare at Dom, seeing both the man I love and the ruthless don he can be. His eyes hold that dangerous glint that should terrify me but somehow makes me feel safer than I've ever been.
"You understand what I'm capable of, right?" His voice drops low. "For you and our child, I would burn this world to ashes without hesitation."
My hand finds his cheek. "Burning the world isn't necessary, Dom. Not everything requires scorched earth."
His intensity doesn't waver. "Then let me handle this my way. Let me call my men."
