Page 21 of Bound in Ruin

No fanfare. No grand spectacle. Just a signature on a piece of paper, a rock on my hand, and a new master. Rosalia Caruso is gone, buried under the weight of a fresh legal document.

I am Dominic Kane’s wife.

Minutes later, we step back out into the dim, subterranean quiet of the courthouse garage. Before I can even reach the passenger side of the SUV, the heavy chime of Dominic’s phone breaks the silence.

He pulls it from his jacket pocket, checks the screen, and his jaw sets into a hard line. "Please excuse me," he says, his tone brief but polite, before turning on his heel and walking several paces away to answer it.

I watch his tall silhouette disappear around a concrete pillar as his low, gravelly voice fades into background murmur.

Standing alone in the cool air, I pull my own phone from my pocket. A sharp, heavy ache settles deep in my chest. If there is a single thing I regret about this whirlwind mess, it's that my sisters couldn't be here. Not that I wanted them in this dreary garage, but the fact that I had to step into another cage without them by my side hurts more than I care to admit.

Before I can lose my nerve, I set up a group video call with Sienna, Camilla, Daniela and Elenora.

The line rings twice before all their faces flash onto the screen.

"Rosy!" Daniela's voice pops through the speaker first, her bright eyes wide with immediate concern.

"I just got married," I say, getting straight to the point before my voice can tremble. I lift my left hand slightly into the camera frame, letting the massive diamond catch the dim overhead lights.

Daniela gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. "What? Rosy, you literally just left home with Dominic yesterday!"

A soft, almost breathless laugh escapes my lips, light and disbelieving. "I know. It still feels like a dream."

“What’s the rush?” Camilla asks. “We couldn’t even be there!”

Elenora leans closer to her camera, her brow furrowed with deep, protective worry. "How are you holding up, Rosalia? Really?"

The familiar question hits me like a sudden wave. For a second, the old, mechanical instinct kicks in—the practiced script I used during my nightmare years with Luciano to convince everyone, including myself, that I was surviving. I'm fine, everything is fine, don't worry about me.

I open my mouth to blurt out the automatic lie, but the words stall in my throat.

I pause, taking a slow, deep breath, letting the quiet of the garage wash over me. I think about the celibacy terms he agreed to without batting an eye. I think about Helena's warm laughter in the sunny hallway yesterday. I think about how he hasn't laid a single unwanted finger on me.

"I'm fine," I say, and for the first time in as long as I can remember, the words aren't just a mask. "Really. I'm okay."

Sienna hums through the speaker, her sharp, perceptive tone breaking through the soft moment. "Well, if you're really okay, and since you two decided to pull off a top-secret elopement, you owe us. Can you host a wedding dinner? Nothing massive, just something so we can actually celebrate you?"

I smile, a genuine warmth spreading through my chest. "I'd love that. I'll get everything sorted and send you the details later today."

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Dominic’s tall frame turning the corner from around the concrete pillar, stepping back into the light as he pockets his phone.

"I have to go," I whisper quickly into the mic. "I'll call you guys back later."

I hang up just as Dominic reaches the car. Without a word, he opens the passenger door for me, his large hand hovering supportively at my back as I step inside, before rounding the hood to climb into the driver's seat.

He turns the key, the engine roaring to life, and pulls us out of the courthouse garage onto the open road.

Ten minutes into the quiet drive, Dominic breaks the silence, his dark eyes flicking to me for a fraction of a second before returning to the street ahead. "Who were you on the phone with back there?"

"My sisters," I answer simply.

He gives a brief, quiet nod, accepting the answer without pushing further.

I stare out the window for a moment, tracing the pattern of the ring on my finger, before turning to face him. "I was wondering if we could host a wedding dinner. Just a small gathering. My family, and maybe a few of your men?"

Dominic pauses, his hands tightening slightly on the leather steering wheel as he processes the request. He stays silent for a long time, weighing the security risks and the social politics of putting our two worlds in the same room so soon.

Finally, he relaxes his grip, a small, approving tilt at the corner of his mouth. "All right. We'll set it up."