Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Dominic

M y fingers pressed against the cold, sleek surface of the phone, the weight of it an anchor in a sea of tumultuous thoughts. I dialed the familiar number, one ingrained in my memory through countless late-night calls that spoke of bloodshed and darkness.

"Is it done?"

"Clean as a whistle, boss. No trace left behind."

"Good." I ended the call with a sharp click, the sound echoing through the spacious office. Despite the reassurance, tension still coiled within me, a serpent lurking in the recesses of my mind.

I knew that my father would be waiting for news. With a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world, I called him.

"The situation at the club has been handled."

"Handled, yes, but not without consequence," he said, his voice bearing the edge of a finely honed blade. "You know there are only two ways this can end now."

My jaw tightened, the muscle ticking beneath the stubble. In his world, options were illusions, choices a luxury afforded to those too weak to seize control.

"Either you marry the girl, or you kill her. There is no in-between. And since she isn't marriage material for our world, I expect confirmation tonight."

My silence filled the room, heavy and foreboding. I understood what was at stake, the delicate balance of power that hinged upon my next move. The thought of Alexa, caught in the crosshairs of my tumultuous life, caused a rare flicker of vulnerability to pass through my otherwise impenetrable facade.

"Understood," I replied before hanging up, every syllable laced with the grim acceptance of my role in this ruthless game. My heart, however, remained a battleground, waging a war between duty and desire, love and violence.

I lingered in the office, the weight of the ultimatum suffocating the room. Her image invaded my thoughts, her bright-blue eyes a contrast to the darkness that now enveloped her life because of me.

"Kill her," the words echoed like a death knell through my mind, but my heart revolted with silent ferocity. The very notion was ridiculous; it clawed at my insides with steel talons. I was no saint, but extinguishing Alexa Monroe's light… I couldn't, I wouldn't.

I imagined her, framed by the moonlight, her blond locks spilling over her shoulders, her skin aglow with an innocence that belied the chaos she'd unwittingly walked into. To snuff out such brightness, such purity, would be to condemn my own soul to an eternity of shadows. No, killing Alexa was not an option. She'd done nothing to deserve the cruel hand fate had dealt her. That I fucking dealt her. How could I be so fucking careless?

Marrying her would condemn her to my way of life. But the only alternative was death and I wouldn't be able to bring myself to do it. Fuck! I could tell her the situation and get her name changed and start her over with a new life, but that didn't guarantee that the family of the men I killed wouldn't someday find her. They would want retribution sooner or later. They wouldn't stop looking, but if she married me, they would be going against one of the biggest families. It made them think twice, but they were probably dumb enough to try to come at us anyway.

I wrestled with the reality of the only path laid before me.

"Marriage." It was a bond I had never envisioned for myself, a promise I had never considered making. After seeing my parents' relationship, it never appealed to me. A loveless marriage was more of a hindrance than a marriage. At least I was attracted to her, wanted to know more about her, hell everything about her really… How would Alexa react to a proposal steeped in danger and darkness? Would she see it as the lifeline it was intended to be, or would she view it as another form of captivity?

My fist clenched, the frustration of the predicament biting into my flesh. I had been the architect of this disaster because of my possessiveness, the foundation upon which our perilous future now teetered. And yet amid the turmoil, a glimmer of hope flickered—the possibility that Alexa might just see beyond the darkness that clung to my name and recognize the sincerity of my offer.

After all, if we were in any other world, there would have been no hesitation. The moment I saw her, I'd ask her out, but we didn't have that luxury. Now, our whole relationship was going to be based on one irrational decision. How would I ever know if her feelings were genuine or because it was expected?

As the night swallowed me whole, I resolved to face the dawn with a question that bore the weight of life and death. For in asking Alexa Monroe to be my wife, I was not only offering her protection—I was entrusting her with my vulnerability, a side of me few ever glimpsed. And in that truth, the darkness seemed just a shade less impenetrable.

Damn it. Jealousy—a visceral, burning thing—had clawed its way out of control, leaving destruction in its wake. If I kept my cool at the club, she wouldn't be forced into this life. When I saw those men looking at her, desire in their eyes, something primal snapped within me. And now, Alexa, sweet and undeserving Alexa, found herself ensnared in a deadly game .

She didn't ask for any of this—the violence, the blood, the constant shadow of death. And yet it was because of her inherent light that I couldn't bear to extinguish her presence from my life.

My hands, once tools of power, now trembled with the fear of losing her. I had thrown her into the lion's den, and though I stood ready to fend off any who dared approach, the guilt gnawed at me, a relentless reminder of the potential cost of my unchecked emotions.

I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe. Even if it meant chaining myself to the gates of hell. The life I led promised only a damned soul anyway, so might as well make it count. The biggest question, though, was, could she survive in my world, a world painted in shades of gray and red, where trust was currency and life was cheap?

My chest tightened with an unfamiliar fear—not for myself, but for her. I knew all too well the ruthlessness of my adversaries, the unforgiving nature of my lifestyle. Yet the thought of her delicate frame shrouded, walking down the aisle toward me, was both a dream and a nightmare.

I imagined the whispers that would follow us, the veiled looks of pity and disdain cast her way. They would see her as a lamb led to slaughter, not as the queen I envisioned by my side. And despite the steel in my spine, the thought of her being tarnished by my world, by my choices, was a poison that threatened to consume me from within.

I could protect her body, shield her from bullets and blades, but could I protect her spirit? Would the lust I felt for her be enough to keep the darkness at bay, or would it seep into her soul, leaving stains no amount of tenderness could wash away?

Could she bear the crown of thorns that comes with loving me?

This was my world—unforgiving, brutal, laced with danger at every turn. And Alexa… Alexa was the one untainted thing within it. The responsibility of her well-being lay heavy on my shoulders.

One thing remained clear amid the chaos: I would lay waste to the world before I let it break her.