THE MAFIA KING BROKEN ROSE novel Chapter 118

Chapter 118

Chapter 118

It started to drizzle.

The rain came down soft at first, just a whisper against the windshield as Dominic drove like a man possessed.

His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, his other hand pressed against his bleeding side. I stayed silent, watching him fight to stay conscious, to keep moving even though every mile we put behind us left a trail of blood and smoke. The safehouse loomed ahead, a sleek, modern structure half buried into a hillsidejust outside Beldova.

Black steel gates swung open at our approach, a fortress disguised as a luxury retreat. High walls, reinforced windows, security cameras tucked into every shadow. This wasn’t just a house; it was a stronghold. A war bunker dressed in expensive stone and glass. Two SUVS followed us in, tires kicking up gravel as they pulled to a stop near the main entrance. Guards spilled out, their face grim and tense. They were locked in, their eyes scanning around like robots.

Inside, the lighting was dim, the air sharp with the scent of gun oil and cold leather. Everything about the place screamed prepared.

E Luca Valenti, Dominic’s third–in–command, stood near the bar, arms crossed. His sharp eyes scanned me the second stepped through the doorway, flicking from my bare legs to the bloodstains on Dominic’s jeans to the pistol still dangling from my trembling hand.

Luca was lean, ruthless, and dangerously calm, the kind of man who didn’t blink when pulling a trigger.

“Security check complete,” Luca said, his voice clipped. “No breaches. We’re clear for now.”

Beside him, Matteo Rossi Dominic’s head of personal security adjusted the strap of his bulletproof vest. Matteo was a mountain of a man, broad–shouldered, his shaved head glinting under the light. He didn’t speak, but his sharp gaze pinned itself to Dominic’s injury with a grim set to his jaw.

Dominic grunted, waved off their concern. “Just a graze.”

But his shirt was soaked through with blood. He stumbled slightly, catching himself on the edge of the kitchen counter.

I dropped the pistol onto the nearest table with a clatter and rushed to him. “You need a doctor.”

“I’ll call one,” Luca said, already pulling out his phone.

“No,” I said quickly. “I’ll take care of him.”

Dominic’s head snapped toward me, a flicker of surprise breaking through the pain in his eyes.

Luca hesitated. Matteo’s brows lifted slightly.

Dominic gave a single sharp nod. “Everyone out.”

The guards filed out without question, though I could feel Luca’s suspicious stare burning between my shoulder blades as he left.

As soon as they were gone, Dominic sagged against the counter. His skin was pale, slick with sweat, and he was breathing through clenched teeth.

“Sit,” I ordered.

He smirked faintly. “You giving orders now, bella?”

“Shut up and bleed quietly.”

I helped him lower into one of the leather chairs by the fireplace. It was the first time I noticed his hands shaking not from fear, but from sheer adrenaline draining out of him.

I forgot that he took was human with feelings of fear.

I knelt in front of him, grabbing the first aid kit tucked under the bar. Gloves, gauze, antiseptic, a small surgical needle and thread. My hands moved automatically.

Dominic watched me with a strange intensity, like he couldn’t decide whether to be amused or impressed.

“Where’d you learn this?” he rasped.

I glanced up, meeting his gaze as I tore open a sterile packet.

“When I was at the club,” I said quietly. “Some nights got walv. Drunk men swinging bottles. Fights over girls. If you wanted to survive long enough to count your tips, you Successfully unlocked!

I focused on the wound. A deep gash across his, uy a law, but clean enough to work with. The bullet had grazed him masty but survivable.

It wasn’t deep like some of the glass I had removed from Carmen inner thigh. Who had money for the hospital? No one. Especially in beldova where most things are expensive

1/3

Chapter 118

“Some nights,” I continued, voice dropping, “we didn’t have doctors. Just vodka, dirty towels, and shaky hands.”

Dominic’s hand came up, cupping the back of my head lightly. His fingers threaded through my hair, not pulling, just resting there like he needed the contact.

“You’re full of surprises, been through so much” he murmured.

“So are you,” I whispered.

The room was quiet except for the low hiss of the rain against the windows. I cleaned the wound as gently as I could, hating the way he flinched under my touch even though he tried to hide it.

“Almost done,” I said.

He smirked. “You sure you’re not secretly a nurse?”

I shook my head, threading the needle. “No. Just a girl who got real good at fixing broken things.”

Dominic’s smile faded a little. His hand slid down from my hair to my cheek, rough fingers tracing the line of my jaw. “You shouldn’t have to fix anything,” he said hoarsely. “Not anymore.”

I didn’t answer.

Because I wasn’t sure if I believed him yet. Whether this or not. I know him. He secretly admires me taking care of him. He loves it. It adds to his feelings of control, so he can’t say that it doesn’t.

He was lying to me about a lot of things.

Maybe not outright, maybe not with words, but with silence. About Mikael. About Victoria.

About my family. My real family.

The ones I never knew existed–until Victoria, with her dying breath, cracked that truth open and left it bleeding at my feet. And Dominic… he hadn’t said a damn thing.

I tied off the last stitch with a sharp tug and cut the thread, my fingers steady, my thoughts anything but. He grunted slightly as I pressed gauze over the wound and taped it down, but didn’t stop watching me.

His eyes were softer now. But I’d learned something about Dominic De Luca–his eyes softened when he wanted to distract you. They hardened when he told the truth.

I sat back on my heels and wiped my hands on a towel.

“You knew,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper.

He stiffened. “Knew what?”

I looked up at him. “About me. My family. The truth Victoria said. That I’m not who I thought I was.”

He was quiet for too long. That alone was an answer.

“Dom,” I breathed, feeling that knot in my chest twist tighter, “Don’t you dare lie to me right now.”

He ran a hand over his face, exhaling like the air had just gotten heavier.

“I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure,” he said slowly. “Until I could protect you from what it might mean.”

“Protect me?” My laugh was sharp, bitter. “By letting a psychopath be the one to tell me instead?”

“She wasn’t supposed to live long enough to say anything.”

That made me stop. “What?”

He looked away.

“You were going to kill her before she could talk.”

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