Chapter 10 - The Balance of the Hearth
The sun began to set over Lake Michigan, casting a long, golden trail of amber light across the limestone terrace of the Costello estate. A large, circular wooden table had been set up near the outdoor hearth, covered in simple linen cloths and plates of fresh pasta, grilled artichokes, and a large bowl of fresh strawberries from the garden.
Marco sat at the far end of the table, his unlit cigar finally replaced by a glass of vintage red wine, his scarred face twisted into a rare, genuine smile as he argued with Gennaro about the upcoming baseball season.
Arthur sat between them, his face covered in a faint smudge of chocolate from the dessert, his laughter echoing over the sound of the small waves crashing against the stone pier below.
Fiona stood near the edge of the stone balustrade, her fingers resting on the cool masonry, looking out over the water. The storm from six months ago felt like a lifetime away—a bad dream that had been bleached out of existence by the steady, purposeful light of the life they had constructed together.
Dominic stepped out from the house, carrying two glasses of white wine. He walked over to her, sliding one glass into her hand before leaning his back against the stone railing, his eyes fixed on her profile.
"What are you thinking about, nurse?" he asked softly.
"I was thinking about the parking garage," Fiona said, turning her head to smile up at him. "The two guys in the charcoal suits with the fifty-thousand-dollar check. I was so terrified I was going to end up in a ditch by Friday."
"You were never going to end up in a ditch, Fiona," Dominic said, his face becoming serious, his icy blue eyes locking onto hers with a fierce, absolute devotion. "The moment you looked at me in that study and refused to lower your eyes, I knew my house was changed forever. You didn't just save my son's life, Fiona. You saved mine."
He reached into his pocket, his large fingers pulling out a small, velvet box. He opened it to reveal a flawless, five-carat oval sapphire ring, set in a band of braided platinum that looked like a crown of thorns that had been smoothed into a circle of protection.
"There are no non-disclosure agreements this time," Dominic whispered, taking her left hand in his, his knuckles warm against her skin. "No cashiers' checks. Just a man who has spent his whole life expecting a knife in the dark, asking the healer to stay for the dawn. Will you marry me, Fiona?"
Fiona looked from the brilliant blue stone to the face of the man who had torn down an entire empire just to make his home safe for a child. She didn't hesitate. She slid her fingers through his, her hand locking against his palm with that same steady, unyielding pressure she had used on the stone doors of the basement tunnel.
May you like
"Yes, Dominic," she said, her voice clear and resonant over the sound of the lake. "The contract is over. I'm staying for the dawn."
Behind them, Arthur cheered, throwing his baseball glove into the air as Marco and Gennaro raised their glasses in a booming, thunderous toast that filled the spring night with the sound of a family that had finally come home.
