Chapter 12 - THE NEW FOUNDATION
Three weeks passed.
The federal indictments against Senator Bellini and the syndicate leadership hit the front page of every major newspaper in the country.
Vanessa Bellini was locked away in a maximum-security federal penitentiary, awaiting trial with no possibility of bail.
The Moretti empire underwent a quiet, thorough purge of anyone tied to the corruption.
And at the heart of the sprawling Chicago mansion, things had changed in ways no one could have ever predicted.
I hadn't left my job as a housemaid—not officially.
Though Dominic had tried to hand me the deed to half his estate on day two, I refused it with a stubborn shake of my head.
“If I stay here, I stay on my own terms,” I told him across the mahogany dining table where Vanessa had once humiliated Maisie.
“I earn my keep. No handouts.”
Dominic had simply smiled, a rare, genuine expression that softened the hard lines of his face.
“Deal,” he had said.
Now, as the autumn leaves began to turn gold and red outside the grand conservatory windows, Maisie was sitting on the plush carpet, laughing as Dominic clumsily attempted to braid her doll's hair.
The most feared man in the Chicago underworld sat cross-legged on the floor, sweat beading on his forehead as he tried to figure out a pink plastic hair tie.
I leaned against the doorway, a small smile playing on my lips as I watched them.
“Daddy, you're doing it backward!” Maisie giggled, pointing a small finger at the messy pink tangle on the doll's head.
Dominic held up his hands in total surrender.
“I'm a tactician, sweetheart, not a hair stylist,” he laughed, his deep voice rich with warmth.
He looked up and caught my eye across the room.
He smiled, standing up and walking over to where I stood.
“How's the staff holding up?” he asked softly, leaning against the doorframe beside me.
“Better since you fired the head chef,” I teased. “The new one actually knows how to make pancakes that don't taste like cardboard.”
Dominic chuckled, his gaze lingering on my face.
“Claire... we need to talk about next week.”
My smile faded just a fraction.
“What's next week?”
“The adoption paperwork,” he said gently.
“The family court judge finalized the review this morning. Since I'm her biological father, and you're her adoptive mother... we need to file joint custody. Legally binding. As a family.”
I looked back at Maisie, who was now happily feeding her doll a pretend cup of tea.
For four years, it had been just the two of us against the world.
Every bill, every fever, every tear—carried entirely on my own shoulders.
Sharing that weight... sharing her... still felt terrifying.
Dominic must have seen the shadow cross my face.
He reached out, his warm fingers gently brushing against my cheek.
“You will always be her primary mother, Claire,” he whispered, his voice steady and absolute.
“Nothing will ever change that. I'm just here to make sure neither of us ever has to walk alone again.”
I looked deep into his dark, steady eyes.
The fear didn't vanish entirely, but it melted away under the quiet promise of his touch.
May you like
“Okay,” I whispered.
“Let's do it.”
