DOM: Alliance Series Book Three (50)

I don’t like it. I’m not okay with it. But I understand it.

It doesn’t fix anything, but being able to put a reason behind it all… it helps.

If Dominic had been open with me, told me about his family, told me who he was, I would’ve talked to King. Because I wouldn’t have known any better. And if I’d told King that Dominic Gonzalez wanted me to marry him so he could have The Alliance’s help, King would have locked me away. He would’ve saved me from this situation. And in doing so, he would have doomed another one of Dom’s cousins. Or uncles. Or… Dominic himself.

The handkerchief is already balled tight in my fist, but I grip it tighter.

My eyes don’t focus as the city blurs past us as we head back home.

Home.

I stay quiet because I don’t know the men in the front seat, and there are things I need to say to Dominic, but I don’t know who can hear them.

Obviously, there are people in his life who know everything. People who had to help him coordinate his plan. And I’m guessing the men who wander the condo with guns are part of that group, so I don’t care if they see me angry or hurt or upset. But the people outside that circle, if they’re exposed to my true emotions, their newly found hope will wither. And if that happens, what was the point of any of this?

If my loneliness can help save even one person, it’s worth it.

It’s more than I was doing with my life anyway.

The vehicle pulls to a stop in front of a massive building, and when Dom reaches for his door, I realize this must be the building we live in.

“Wait for me,” Dominic commands, just as he did outside the church, then he exits the SUV.

And just like before, I wait.

Maybe I’ve watched too many movies, but I always thought someone else opened doors for the man in charge. But Dom takes care of himself.

He circles around, then pulls my door open, and I climb out.

Before he shuts the car door, he leans in and says something to the driver. Something about waiting.

I keep my lips pressed together as we walk into the building, flanked by four men in black suits.

A few people are passing through the lobby, and a man sits behind a desk next to the bank of elevators, but no one even raises their eyes to us. I’m not sure if it’s because of wariness or if they’re used to the spectacle, but either way, I’m happy not to have any more attention on me.

Dom leads us away from the elevators to cut in front of the desk.

As we pass it, the seated man stands. “Mr. Gonzalez.”

Dominic pauses, grabbing my wrist, so I pause, too. “Phil, this is my wife. Make sure everyone knows.”

The man looks at me and nods. If he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it. “Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Gonzalez.”

I’m proud of myself for not flinching at him calling me that. “Likewise.”

Manners have me wanting to hold my hand out, but since he keeps his hands at his sides and Dom doesn’t loosen his grip on my wrist, I don’t bother.

“I’m sure Mr. Gonzalez has already told you, but if you need anything at all, just call down.”

Dom has not told me that, and I don’t know how to call down, but I tell him thank you all the same.

Conversation closed, Dom moves us down a hallway on the other side of the desk to a single elevator that’s not visible to the rest of the lobby.

There’s a palm reader in place of a call button, and when Dom presses his hand to it, the doors slide open, and we step in.

I expect the group of men to enter with us, but they turn their backs to the elevator and stand in place as the doors slide shut.

The ascension is quick, and before I can think of what to say to Dom, the car is slowing to a stop, and the doors are reopening.

There’s a man—one of Dom’s, I assume—in the hallway outside the door to the condo, but Dom still uses the palm reader to unlock it.

He doesn’t open the door, though. He taps the corner of the screen, and a keypad displays. Dom types in a series of letters, faster than I can track.

I’m starting to turn my gaze away, not interested in security equipment, when Dom lifts my hand, the one he’s still holding by my wrist.

“Press it flat to the glass.”

I do as he says. I don’t see or feel anything, but after a few seconds, a tiny symbol blinks green below my thumb.

“Good.”

I take that as permission to drop my hand, and he taps in a few more commands, then reaches past me to open the door.

It’s been less than twenty-four hours since I first stepped foot in Dominic’s home, but it holds a familiarity that allows my shoulders to relax for the first time since he told me we were going to a funeral.

“Stay here,” Dom says to me, placing his hand on my back before raising his voice. “Everyone out.”

The two men I can see start toward us, and two more men I hadn’t noticed move into the main room, with another man coming in through the glass door from outside.

“You three.” Dom points to a trio. “You stay in the hallway outside the door. You.” He points to another. “You’re in the lobby. And you.” He points to the last man. “You’re in the parking garage. These are your positions when my wife is home. No one is in here with her. If she orders anything, you’ll collect it from downstairs and hand it to her at the door. Not a fucking foot inside. Got it?” The men all nod. “You’re here because I trust you to protect my woman. But if you step out of line, I’ll kill you my-fucking-self.”