Chapter 7
Tessa woke to sunlight.
Real, unfiltered sunlight streaming through the windows.
The rain had finally stopped.
She sat up slowly, disoriented. She was still fully clothed, still wearing yesterday’s jeans and Dominic’s oversized sweater.
The bed beside her was empty, but the pillow still held the indent of his head.
She touched it, feeling the lingering warmth.
He’d stayed with her.
She slid out of bed and walked to the living room.
Dominic was standing by the windows, phone pressed to his ear, speaking in rapid Italian.
He’d showered. Changed into a fresh white t-shirt and dark jeans.
The bruise on his jaw was darker now—purple and angry—but he looked more rested than she’d seen him in days.
He turned when he heard her footsteps.
His expression shifted immediately—all the hard edges melting away.
He ended the call without saying goodbye and crossed the room in three strides.
“How do you feel?”
“Like I slept for a week.”
“Fourteen hours, actually.”
Tessa’s eyes widened. “Fourteen—”
“You needed it.”
Dominic cupped her face in his hands, studying her like he was memorizing every detail.
“I made a decision while you were asleep.”
Tessa’s stomach flipped. “What kind of decision?”
“I’m stepping back.”
She blinked. “What?”
“Not completely. I still have responsibilities. But I’m delegating more. Letting others handle day-to-day operations. I’ve spent ten years building this empire, Tessa. I’m not going to let it consume the rest of my life.”
He pressed his forehead to hers.
“I made you a promise last night. No more wars. I meant it. I want a life with you. A real life. Not just stolen moments between crises.”
Tessa’s throat tightened.
“What does that look like?”
“I don’t know yet. But we’ll figure it out together.”
He kissed her softly.
“Starting with breakfast. I make terrible eggs, but I’m willing to try.”
Tessa laughed—a real, genuine laugh that surprised them both.
“I can make eggs.”
“Then I’ll watch and learn.”
They moved to the kitchen together.
Tessa cracked eggs into a bowl while Dominic leaned against the counter, sipping coffee and watching her with an intensity that made her cheeks flush.
“Stop staring.”
“Can’t help it.”
“You’re going to make me mess this up.”
“Impossible. You’re perfect.”
Tessa rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.
This was new territory—domesticity, normalcy, the quiet intimacy of a shared morning.
It felt fragile. Precious.
Like something that could shatter if she held it too tightly.
“Dominic?”
“Mm?”
“Last night, before I fell asleep… did you say something?”
His expression shifted. Vulnerable. Almost nervous.
“I said a lot of things.”
“You said you loved me.”
Silence.
Dominic set his mug down carefully.
He walked over, turning her to face him.
“I did. And I meant it.”
His voice was steady, but his eyes held a question.
Tessa set the whisk down.
She reached up, sliding her hands around the back of his neck.
“I love you too.”
The words felt monumental. Terrifying. True.
Dominic exhaled—a shaky, relieved sound.
He pulled her flush against him, burying his face in her hair.
“Say it again.”
“I love you.”
“Again.”
“I love you, Dominic Costa.”
He lifted her onto the counter, stepping between her knees, and kissed her with a desperate intensity that stole her breath.
This kiss was different from the others.
It wasn’t tentative. It wasn’t gentle.
It was a claiming, a promise, a confession all at once.
Tessa’s hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer.
She’d spent twenty-three years building walls to keep this exact feeling out.
And now she was drowning in it—willingly, gratefully.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Dominic rested his forehead against hers.
“I don’t deserve you.”
“Probably not.”
He laughed—a low, rough sound.
“But I’m keeping you anyway.”
“Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”
The eggs burned.
Neither of them cared.
Later that afternoon, Gemma showed up.
Wyatt announced her arrival with visible reluctance.
“Miss Costa is here. She’s… insistent.”
Dominic sighed. “Let her up.”
Gemma burst through the elevator doors like a hurricane, her eyes immediately locking on Tessa.
“Are you okay? I heard what happened with Gary. I’m so sorry, Tess. I’m so—”
“I’m okay, Gem.”
Gemma pulled her into a fierce hug.
Then she turned to her brother, expression shifting to something harder.
“You really did it. You took down Arthur Moretti.”
“I did.”
“The whole family is talking about it. They’re calling it a masterclass in strategic warfare.”
Dominic shrugged. “I call it Tuesday.”
Gemma laughed despite herself.
Then her expression sobered.
She looked between Dominic and Tessa, taking in their proximity, the way Dominic’s hand rested casually on Tessa’s lower back.
“So it’s real. You two.”
“It’s real,” Tessa confirmed.
Gemma studied them for a long moment.
Then she smiled—small, genuine, bittersweet.
“Okay. Okay. Just… don’t hurt her, Dom. She’s the only good thing in my life. If you break her heart, I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” Dominic challenged, eyebrow raised.
“I’ll steal your favorite car and drive it into the East River.”
“You don’t have a license.”
“Exactly.”
Dominic laughed.
Gemma hugged Tessa one more time, whispering in her ear, “He’s different with you. Softer. I’ve never seen him like this. Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it.”
Then she was gone, leaving Tessa and Dominic alone again.
“Your sister is exhausting,” Tessa said.
“She grows on you.”
“Like mold.”
May you like
Dominic grinned, pulling her back into his arms.
“Welcome to the family, mia.”
