Page 90 of Bound in Ruin

Yes!

By the evening of the next day, I have everything planned.

I’ve bought out the rooftop of one of the city’s most exclusive restaurants. Just me and Rosalia. My wife.

A Michelin-starred chef has prepared a private dinner for us, and a renowned musician is performing live. I’ve gone all out.

When we arrive, I take her by the hand and lead her upstairs.

The moment she steps out and sees it, she stops.

Her eyes sweep across the intimate setting—the candlelit table, the flowers, the glittering city skyline stretching out beneath us, and the musicians waiting nearby.

A smile slowly spreads across her face.

“Dominic…”

She turns to me, then throws her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly.

I wrap my arms around her, unable to stop the smile tugging at my mouth.

I’m ridiculously proud of myself.

For once, I think I’ve actually managed to surprise my wife.

“I love it,” she whispers.

“I’m glad.”

I kiss her forehead before pulling out her chair for her. She settles in, still smiling as I take my seat across from her.

A moment later, the first course arrives, the music begins, and the city lights shimmer around us.

It’s just the two of us.

Exactly how I wanted it.

I’m halfway through the meal when I realize she isn’t enjoying herself the way I’d hoped. She’s smiling. She’s happy. But she isn’t laughing.

I watch her closely as she takes a delicate bite of the truffle risotto. She’s being sweet, and she’s nodding along to the music—but there’s a polite, quiet restraint in the way she sits.

I want her unabashed. I want her guards completely lowered. I want to see that beautiful, careless smile she only wears when she’s truly having fun.

Realizing I missed the mark entirely, panic sets in. I don't know what the fuck to do.

"Excuse me for a minute," I say softly, dabbing my mouth with a napkin and standing up from the table. "I'll be right back."

Rosalia nods with a warm, gentle smile. "Take your time."

I walk straight toward the private elevator, slipping inside and letting the doors slide shut. As the elevator descends, I take a deep, rough breath, pulling my phone from my jacket pocket.

For the first time in my life, I find myself dialing a number I never thought I’d use.

It rings twice before Eleonora picks up. "Mr. Kane?" Her voice is thick with utter shock. "Is everything okay? Did something happen to Rosalia?"

"No," I say quickly, standing in the quiet lobby and rubbing the back of my neck. "She's fine. She's safe. I just... I need your help."

There’s a beat of silence on the line. "My help? With what?"