Chapter 7 - The Woman He Never Saw Coming
One year after Elena Cross walked into the Velvet Vault disguised as a waitress, she walked through its doors again.
This time wearing black.
No apron.
No tray.
No fake identity.
The club had changed.
The private gambling rooms were gone.
The back offices had become legitimate corporate space.
The men who once whispered Damian Rossi’s name now complained about quarterly taxes.
Elena considered that progress.
Luca approached.
“He’s waiting.”
“Where?”
“Same booth.”
“Of course.”
She crossed the room.
Damian sat exactly where she had first served him.
A bottle of scotch rested on the table.
Two glasses.
He looked up.
“You’re late.”
“Fire me.”
“You own fifty-one percent.”
“Then behave.”
He smiled.
Elena sat opposite him.
Damian poured two drinks.
“To one year.”
“One year since what?”
“You humiliated me publicly.”
“You grabbed me.”
“You broke my wrist.”
“You challenged me.”
“You sat on my chest.”
“You’re becoming sentimental.”
He laughed.
Then pushed a small box across the table.
Elena stopped smiling.
“Damian.”
“Open it.”
“If there’s jewelry inside—”
“There’s jewelry inside.”
She stared at him.
“Subtle.”
“I’ve never claimed subtlety.”
Elena opened the box.
A simple diamond ring rested inside.
She looked at him.
Damian Rossi—the man who once terrified Chicago—actually appeared nervous.
Elena almost enjoyed it.
“Are you asking what I think you’re asking?”
“I prepared a speech.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“I forgot it.”
“Even better.”
He stood.
The room noticed.
People began turning.
Damian ignored them.
“Elena Cross.”
“Yes?”
“You walked into my club lying about your name.”
“Strong opening.”
“You destroyed my favorite suit.”
“Accident.”
“You broke my wrist.”
“Technically you contributed.”
“You uncovered the man betraying me.”
“We uncovered him.”
“You brought your brother home.”
Her expression softened.
“And you forced me to decide what kind of man I wanted to be when fear stopped being useful.”
Elena became quiet.
Damian continued.
“I cannot promise I’ll always be easy.”
“You definitely won’t.”
“I cannot promise we’ll never fight.”
“We definitely will.”
“I can promise you’ll never have to become smaller so I can feel bigger.”
That silenced her.
Damian held out the ring.
“So, Elena Cross, would you consider spending the rest of your life correcting my worst decisions?”
She looked around.
Luca stood near the bar.
Daniel had appeared beside him.
Her brother raised both thumbs.
Elena laughed.
Then looked back at Damian.
“One condition.”
His face fell.
“Of course.”
“You never call me sweetheart during an argument.”
“Done.”
“And another.”
“You said one.”
“I changed the contract.”
Damian smiled.
“Fine.”
“If you ever grab my wrist again—”
He glanced at his right hand.
“I know.”
“What happens?”
“You break it.”
“Good.”
Damian slipped the ring onto her finger.
“So that’s a yes?”
Elena grabbed his tie and pulled him closer.
“Yes.”
The room erupted.
Daniel shouted, “Somebody protect his wrists!”
Luca laughed.
Damian looked at Elena.
“I hate your brother.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No.”
He kissed her gently.
“You’re right.”
Later, when the club had emptied and Chicago glittered beyond the windows, Elena stood beside Damian near the booth where everything had started.
“Do you ever think about that night?” he asked.
“Sometimes.”
“I thought you came to kill me.”
“I know.”
“Instead you saved my organization.”
Elena shook her head.
“No.”
Damian looked at her.
“You saved it yourself.”
He considered that.
Then smiled.
“And you?”
“What about me?”
“What did you find when you came looking for a traitor?”
Elena looked toward Daniel laughing with Luca across the room.
She had found her brother.
She had found the truth.
And somehow, in the middle of the dangerous world she had entered intending to leave behind, she had found something she never came looking for.
A future.
She turned back to Damian.
“Something much more troublesome.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
Elena smiled.
May you like
“You.”
And for once, Damian Rossi had absolutely nothing to say.
