Chapter 2 - The Night They Broke the Rules
Dominic drew a pistol from beneath his jacket.
Harper had seen weapons carried by his guards, but she had never watched him hold one.
He did not panic.
He moved with terrifying calm, positioning himself between Harper and the door while the footsteps grew louder.
“Get behind the bed,” he whispered.
“What’s happening?”
“Now, Harper.”
She dropped behind the heavy wooden frame seconds before the bedroom door opened.
A man stepped inside.
Dominic seized him, twisted his arm, and slammed him against the wall. The pistol fell onto the carpet.
“Mr. Russo,” the man gasped. “It’s me.”
Dominic froze.
The intruder was one of Carmine’s security guards.
“What happened downstairs?” Dominic demanded.
“Transformer blew outside. One of the guards fired when he saw movement near the generator. It was a deer.”
Dominic released him.
“And why did you enter without permission?”
“Mr. Falco ordered everyone gathered in the library.”
Dominic’s expression revealed nothing.
“We will join him shortly.”
After the guard left, Harper stood.
“You almost killed him.”
“He entered a dark room carrying a weapon.”
“He was trying to help.”
“In my world, people frequently pretend to help.”
Dominic checked the hallway and locked the door again.
Harper hugged her arms around herself.
The reality of his life had always existed at the edge of their arrangement. Tonight it stepped fully into the room.
“You should sleep,” Dominic said.
“After that?”
“I’ll stay awake.”
“There is one bed.”
“You take it.”
“And where will you be?”
“In the chair.”
Harper looked toward the stiff armchair near the window.
“You’ll be miserable.”
“I have endured worse.”
“I’m beginning to suspect that is your answer to everything.”
Dominic’s mouth almost curved.
Harper climbed beneath the blankets, fully dressed except for her shoes. Dominic sat in the armchair, his pistol on the table beside him.
Snow struck the windows.
For nearly an hour, neither spoke.
Then Harper heard Dominic’s breathing change.
He had fallen asleep, but his rest was not peaceful.
His hand tightened against the arm of the chair. His jaw clenched. A broken word left his mouth.
“Father.”
Harper sat up.
Dominic jerked awake and reached for his weapon.
“It’s me,” she whispered.
His eyes focused slowly.
“You were dreaming.”
“I don’t dream.”
“You just did.”
He turned toward the window.
Harper studied the strain in his face.
“Was it about your father?”
“That is not your concern.”
She flinched.
Dominic noticed.
For the first time, regret appeared in his expression.
“My father died in front of me,” he said after a long pause.
Harper remained silent.
Dominic leaned forward, forearms resting against his knees.
“He trusted someone he should not have trusted. By the time I understood, it was too late.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Do not be. Sympathy changes nothing.”
“No, but silence doesn’t either.”
His gaze moved toward her.
“My father believed affection created weakness. He raised me to believe the same.”
“Is that why you needed a fake wife?”
“I needed a symbol.”
“A woman shaped like a shield.”
“Yes.”
Harper looked down at the ring on her hand.
“And what happens when the shield has feelings?”
Dominic’s expression tightened.
“That is why the rules exist.”
Morning brought another test.
At breakfast, Carmine’s wife asked Harper whether Dominic snored. A younger boss questioned which side of the bed she preferred. The women watched for hesitation while the men exchanged knowing smiles.
Harper answered smoothly.
“Dominic does not snore. He does, however, steal the blankets and deny it the next morning.”
Laughter moved around the table.
Dominic glanced at her.
“Lies,” he said.
Harper touched his arm.
“See? Denial.”
Even Carmine smiled.
But later, Harper found Dominic alone in a hallway.
“You handled yourself well,” he said.
“I’m learning.”
“Too quickly.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“It is a concern.”
Before Harper could answer, Carmine appeared.
“Dominic, a word in private.”
The older man led him away.
Harper returned to the suite, where she found the door partly open.
A woman stood inside.
She was tall, elegant, and dressed in dark red. She held one of Harper’s dresses against herself while staring into the mirror.
“Excuse me,” Harper said.
The woman turned.
“You must be the bride.”
“And you must be someone who enters other people’s rooms without permission.”
The stranger smiled.
“Bianca Moretti.”
Harper recognized the name. Bianca’s family had once been expected to form an alliance with the Russos.
Bianca placed the dress on the bed.
“Dominic and I grew up together.”
“How fortunate for both of you.”
“He was expected to marry me.”
Harper kept her expression neutral.
“Yet he didn’t.”
Bianca stepped closer.
“Do you know why?”
“I assume he discovered your charming habit of searching through closets.”
“He did not marry me because Carmine feared our families would become too powerful together.”
Her smile sharpened.
“You are convenient, Harper. No family. No influence. No one to avenge you when Dominic grows tired of pretending.”
The words landed harder than Harper wanted to admit.
Bianca noticed.
“Has he touched you when no one was watching?”
Harper said nothing.
“That is what I thought.”
Bianca walked toward the door.
“Enjoy the ring. It belongs to the role, not to you.”
That evening, the storm worsened.
The guests drank in the main hall while musicians played near the fireplace. Dominic stood with Carmine and several senior men, his face unreadable.
Harper remained beside the windows until Bianca approached Dominic.
She placed a hand on his chest with familiar ease.
Dominic removed it, but not before Harper saw.
Bianca leaned close and whispered something.
Dominic looked toward Harper.
Their eyes met.
Harper turned away first.
She reminded herself that the marriage was a contract.
Dominic could have a history. He could have lovers. He owed Harper nothing beyond the written terms.
So why did her chest hurt?
She returned upstairs early.
Half an hour later, Dominic entered the suite.
“You left without telling me.”
“I walked upstairs, not across an international border.”
“You are not supposed to move through this house alone.”
“Bianca said you were expected to marry her.”
Dominic went still.
Harper hated herself for asking.
“Was she lying?”
“No.”
“Were you in love with her?”
“No.”
The speed of his answer surprised her.
“She was part of an alliance my father considered. Nothing more.”
“She seems to believe she still has a claim.”
“No one has a claim on me.”
Harper laughed bitterly.
“Except the men who demanded you find a wife.”
Dominic stepped closer.
“What did she say to you?”
“That I’m convenient.”
“You are.”
The blunt answer struck her.
Dominic continued before she could look away.
“You were selected because you had no connection to my enemies. Because your history was clean. Because you were intelligent enough to survive public scrutiny.”
“And because I was desperate.”
“Yes.”
Harper pulled the diamond ring from her finger and placed it on the dresser.
“I know what I agreed to. You don’t need to keep reminding me that I’m an employee.”
Dominic looked at the ring.
“Put it back on.”
“There are no cameras here.”
“Harper.”
“Why does it bother you?”
His eyes lifted to hers.
“Because you are my wife.”
“No. I play your wife.”
Something changed in his face.
He crossed the space between them.
Harper’s breath caught.
Dominic stopped close enough that she could feel the heat of his body.
“Do you think I forget that every time you enter a room?” he asked quietly.
She stared at him.
“Forget what?”
“That this is an arrangement.”
The admission hung between them.
Harper’s voice softened.
“Then maybe you should step back.”
“You first.”
Neither moved.
The storm rattled the windows.
Dominic lifted one hand and touched a strand of hair near Harper’s cheek.
He gave her time to turn away.
She did not.
Their kiss began carefully, almost reluctantly.
Then months of restraint collapsed.
Harper gripped the front of his shirt. Dominic pulled her closer, his control breaking in the rough sound that escaped his throat.
This kiss was not for photographers.
It was not for Carmine.
It was not required by any agreement.
Dominic pulled away first, breathing hard.
“We should stop.”
Harper searched his face.
“Do you want to?”
“No.”
“Neither do I.”
That night, they broke every rule they had written.
Morning arrived with pale light across the snow.
Harper woke against Dominic’s chest.
For a few peaceful seconds, she forgot who he was and why she had married him.
Then his phone rang.
Dominic answered and became cold again.
“What happened?”
He sat up.
“When?”
Harper watched his expression darken.
“I’m returning to the city.”
He ended the call and dressed quickly.
“What is it?” she asked.
“One of my warehouses burned overnight.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“That is not your concern.”
The words felt sharper after what had happened between them.
Dominic stopped at the door but did not look back.
“Last night cannot happen again.”
Harper’s throat tightened.
“Of course.”
“It complicates the arrangement.”
“I understand.”
He left.
Hours later, while Harper packed, she found her discarded contract beneath Dominic’s jacket.
A new clause had been handwritten across the final page.
In the event of pregnancy, custody of any Russo heir would belong exclusively to Dominic Russo.
Harper stared at the words.
May you like
The ink looked fresh.
And beside the clause was Dominic’s signature.
