Page 94 of Bound in Ruin

A sharp chime breaks through the warm atmosphere.

My phone, resting beside my plate, lights up with an incoming email notification. I slide my hand out of Dominic's grip to pick it up, tapping the screen to open the message.

The header at the top of the email instantly freezes the breath in my throat: DeLorenzo Legal Group.

My eyes quickly skim down the formal legalese on the screen. The easy mood in the room vanishes in a fraction of a second as the words register.

"What is it?" Dominic asks, his voice instantly losing its playful edge, his dark eyes sharpening as he catches the sudden shift in my posture.

I swallow hard, staring down at the glowing screen. "It's an email from Dante's lawyers. They're requesting a formal arbitration... next Monday."

Before I can even process the text, Dominic snatches the phone right out of my hand. I don't even have to look at him—the sharp intake of his breath and the immediate hardening of his jaw say it all.

Dante is requesting a formal arbitration between the DeLorenzos, the Carusos, and the Kanes. His legal team claims that Luciano's hidden accounts contain proprietary DeLorenzo property—business records, clearance codes, high-value contracts, untraceable funds, and sensitive intelligence.

Because of this, he argues that I have no legal right to keep the files or turn them over to Dominic, which he explicitly notes I am bound to do given my marriage into the Kane family.

He’s legally twisting facts to build a technical argument, but everyone in this room knows that’s not the actual point.

Dominic finishes reading, his dark eyes ablaze with cold fury, and shoves the phone toward Keane. He leans over it, his brow furrowing deeper with every line they scan.

Keane is the first to speak, setting the phone down on the table with an exhale. "Since Dante failed to rob you of your rights legally after losing the will contest in court, he’s shifting tactics. He’s trying to pressure you publicly. If he forces a public arbitration, he can spin the narrative to make you look unstable, guilty, and entirely manipulated by the Kane family."

Helena turns her sharp gaze between the two of us, her mouth setting into a grim line. "What are you going to do?"

"We aren't doing a fucking thing with his arbitration," Dominic snaps instantly, standing up from his chair so fast it scrapes loudly against the hardwood floor. "I’ll shut the meeting down before it even makes the docket. I’ll handle Dante myself."

"No," I say, my voice cutting through his rising anger with absolute clarity.

Dominic pauses, turning to glare down at me. "Rosalia⁠—"

"No, Dominic," I repeat, standing up to meet his intense gaze head-on. "We are attending that arbitration."

He opens his mouth to argue, his chest rising as he prepares to completely steamroll the conversation, but I step closer, holding my ground until his jaw clicks shut.

"If you want me to be your wife and not your pawn," I say, keeping my tone calm, "then you cannot handle me like one. You cannot fight my battles in the dark while hiding me behind your back. It is time I prove to Dante—and everyone else in this city—that I am not a pushover."

Dominic stares at me, the muscle in his jaw ticking wildly as his protective instincts clash violently with the respect he promised me. For a long, tense moment, the room is completely silent.

Finally, he lets out a harsh breath, his shoulders dropping just a fraction.

"Fine," Dominic agrees, his dark eyes locking onto mine with fierce intensity. "We go to the arbitration. When we walk into that room, Rosalia... you speak first. But if Dante pisses me off, he will not leave that room alive.”

I believe him.

Three days later, we’re back at the long mahogany dining table for breakfast.

It seems like the tension from Dante's arbitration notice has temporarily receded, replaced by a warm, chaotic energy.

Helena and Keane are sitting across from us, a physical copy of The Guardian spread out between them, both of them grinning like kids with a prize.

"Well, well, well," Keane chuckles, tapping the glossy page with his finger. "You two certainly put on a masterclass. On the surface, you posture as cold, powerful, and perfectly matched—a total united front." He flips the page, his smirk broadening. "But if you read between the lines, you dropped some hilarious accidental truths."

"Listen to this," Helena chimes in, clearing her throat dramatically to read Dominic's highlighted quote. "'Rosalia is harder to frighten than any woman I have ever known. You can put her through hell, throw a storm directly at her face, and she won’t bow her head. She just stands up and fights back harder.”

Dominic takes a slow sip of his black coffee, looking entirely unimpressed, though a tiny smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"And here’s Rosalia on you, Boss," Keane adds, leaning back in his chair to quote me.