PART 2 — DOMINIC FOUND HIS DISCARDED MAID SEVEN MONTHS PREGNANT WHILE ENEMIES CLOSED IN AROUND HER

Matteo’s network found Layla in less than three hours.

She was not living in comfort with the money Dominic had thrown at her. She rented a room in a decaying Pilsen tenement and worked at a dim twenty-four-hour diner inside Moretti territory. By midnight, freezing rain coated the sidewalks and turned the streetlights into blurred halos.

Dominic’s black SUV stopped across from the diner.

Matteo gripped the steering wheel. “We should bring more men. This block belongs to Moretti.”

“I don’t care.”

Dominic stepped into the rain.

Through the fogged window, he saw Layla wiping a table. She looked thinner than he remembered, her face pale with exhaustion. Then she turned sideways.

Her swollen abdomen pressed heavily against her apron.

Dominic stopped breathing.

Seven months.

The masquerade gala had been seven months ago.

Before he could enter, two Moretti enforcers pushed through the diner door. Dominic recognized both men. They collected unpaid debts by breaking fingers and leaving bodies

in alleys.

The larger man seized Layla’s arm.

“You missed another payment.”

“I told Mr. Vance I need one more week,” Layla pleaded. “My doctor reduced my hours.”

The man’s gaze dropped to her stomach. “Not our problem.”

Layla covered her abdomen with her free hand.

Something savage moved through Dominic.

The woman was his.

The children might be his.

He kicked the diner door open hard enough to crack the glass.

The two men turned. One reached beneath his jacket.

Dominic crossed the room before he could draw. He caught the man by the throat and drove his head into the edge of a Formica table. The second enforcer pulled a handgun, but Dominic twisted his wrist until the weapon struck the floor, then sent him crashing into a rack of dirty dishes.

Silence followed.

Layla stood against the wall, staring at Dominic as if the past itself had

come to collect her.

His gaze dropped to her stomach.

“Layla.”

“Stay away from me.”

“Tell me the truth.”

She lifted her chin. “You dismissed me. You threw money at me and called me a liability. You don’t get to demand anything now.”

“The masquerade,” he said. “The library. It was you.”

Her expression broke for one second.

“Yes.”

Dominic stepped closer, his bloodied knuckles hovering near her abdomen without touching it. “Is the child mine?”

Layla laughed once, bitter and breathless.

“Children.”

His eyes changed. “What?”

“Twins.” Tears slipped down her face, but her voice remained firm. “I’m carrying twins, Dominic, and you will never take them from me.”

The word seemed to empty the room of air.

Dominic Gallo had ordered men killed without blinking. He had seized buildings, docks, and entire neighborhoods through force. Yet he stood motionless before the exhausted woman he had thrown out, unable

to command his own voice.

“I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t ask.”

Layla tried to pass him, but he blocked the aisle.

“You are not staying here.”

“I survived four months without you.”

“Survival is no longer enough.”

Matteo entered with two armed guards. Layla’s face tightened as she saw the diner becoming a crime scene.

Dominic lowered his voice. “You are coming with me.”

“I am not your property.”

“No.” His gaze moved to her stomach. “You are the mother of my children. That makes you the most protected woman in Illinois.”

“It makes me your prisoner.”

“It makes you alive.”

He wrapped his coat around her shoulders and led her into the armored SUV. Layla resisted until another pain tightened across her abdomen. Dominic’s hand went immediately to her elbow.

“Is something wrong?”

“Stress,” she said sharply. “Something you create wherever you go.”

The drive to the penthouse passed in strained silence. Layla watched Chicago’s lights streak across the windows, feeling as if she had been abducted by a ghost.

When the elevator opened, Celeste stood in the foyer wearing a silk robe.

Her confusion became hatred when she saw Layla’s pregnancy.

“You brought the maid back?”

Dominic kept one hand at Layla’s back.

Celeste looked from him to Layla. “Is that child yours?”

“Children,” Layla answered before Dominic could speak.

Celeste’s face drained of color.

“This is ridiculous. Dominic, we are engaged.”

“Our engagement is a business arrangement,” he said. “Business has changed.”

“You cannot bring a pregnant servant into our home and expect me to tolerate it.”

Dominic turned slowly. The silence in his face frightened even Celeste.

“You will remain in the guest wing. You will not speak to Layla, approach her, or interfere with her care. If you ignore me, your family will lose every Gallo alliance before sunrise.”

Celeste stared at him, then stepped back.

For the first time, Layla understood that Celeste had never controlled Dominic. She had merely believed she did.

Dominic guided Layla into the master suite, a room she had never been permitted to enter as an employee. Its luxury felt obscene after months of counting coins for food.

“Why am I here?” she asked. “Why not give me money and let me leave?”

Dominic knelt in front of her.

His hand rose toward her stomach, then stopped. “May I?”

The question surprised them both.

Layla hesitated before allowing him to touch her.

One baby kicked beneath his palm.

Dominic’s expression fractured. The ruthless leader vanished, leaving a man stunned by a life he had almost condemned.

“I believed I was alone,” he whispered. “Even in rooms full of people.”

“That doesn’t excuse what you did.”

“No.”

“You humiliated me.”

“I know.”

“You sent me into winter while I was carrying your children.”

His jaw tightened. “I know.”

Layla studied him. “And you think guards, doctors, and a locked penthouse repair that?”

“No.” He looked directly at her. “But I will spend every day trying.”

The physician arrived before dawn and examined Layla while Dominic waited outside the bedroom door. He paced the hallway like a man facing a verdict.

When the doctor finally emerged, Dominic stepped forward. “Are they safe?”

“For now. Both heartbeats are strong, but Ms. Bennett is underweight, exhausted, and showing signs of severe stress. Twin pregnancies carry additional risks. She needs stability.”

Dominic’s gaze shifted toward the closed door.

The doctor lowered his voice. “She also needs control over her own environment. Protection will not help if she feels trapped.”

That warning stayed with him.

The next morning, Dominic returned Layla’s identification, gave her access to every elevator, and placed a phone on the bedside table without tracking software.

“You can leave,” he said. “But not without security.”

Layla looked at the phone, suspicious. “You expect gratitude?”

“No. I expect you to understand that I am trying to learn the difference between keeping you safe and keeping you captive.”

It was the first apology he had offered through action rather than command.

Layla did not forgive him, but she stopped looking at every locked door as if she needed to escape through it.

Within hours, the penthouse changed into a fortress. Dominic hired the best obstetrician in Illinois, stationed guards at every entrance, and cleared an entire wing. He moved business meetings into the library so he would never be far away.

His protection quickly became obsession.

He inspected Layla’s meals, questioned nurses, and demanded updates whenever she slept longer than expected. She fought him over every rule.

“I am pregnant, not dying.”

“You were living beside armed debt collectors.”

“Because you fired me.”

Every argument returned to that wound.

Yet in quieter moments, Layla saw pieces of the man he hid from the world. Dominic sat beside her during medical appointments, asking the doctor precise questions and writing every answer in a black notebook. At night, he read about premature labor and twin births until dawn.

When one baby kicked, he placed his hand over the movement with reverence.

Celeste watched from a distance.

Her strategic marriage was collapsing. The Rossi family had promised Dominic access to New York alliances, but blood mattered more in their world than contracts. If Layla delivered two Gallo heirs, Celeste could become unnecessary overnight.

Outside the penthouse, the Moretti family retaliated.

Dominic’s assault inside their territory humiliated them. Shipments disappeared from the docks. Warehouses burned. Informants began dying. Security around Layla tripled.

One evening, she found Dominic on the terrace, staring over the city with a cigar between his fingers.

“They know about me,” she said.

“They suspect.”

“And that makes me a target.”

Dominic removed his coat and placed it over her shoulders. “As long as I breathe, no one will touch you.”

“You cannot promise that.”

“I can promise what happens to anyone who tries.”

Three days later, a fire alarm sounded beneath the penthouse.

Emergency lights flashed. Elevators shut down. Guards rushed toward reports of smoke on the lower floors.

The report was false.

Layla was alone in the bedroom when the power failed.

The door exploded inward.

Three armed men in tactical clothing entered through the darkness.

Layla backed toward the bed, protecting her abdomen.

The leader raised a suppressed pistol.

“Moretti sends his regards.”

To be continued… Click “PART 3” to read the final part: 👉 PART 3 👈