Chapter 7 - THE NURSE WHO REFUSED THE MAFIA KING
The next morning, Dominic offered me five million dollars.
He placed a document on the breakfast table.
I looked at it.
Then at him.
"What is this?"
"A personal trust."
"For whom?"
"You and Oliver."
I stared.
"Why?"
"So you'll never have to worry about money again."
For a moment, I remembered counting quarters at a motel vending machine.
Choosing between extra diapers and a decent dinner.
Calculating whether I could afford one more week away from Chicago.
Five million dollars could change everything.
Pay for a home.
Restore my savings.
Make it possible to return to nursing without spending years paying off debts.
But there was something about the document that frightened me.
"What's the condition?"
Dominic's expression changed.
"Condition?"
"There always is one."
He looked down.
"The trust would provide ongoing financial support if you remained involved in Oliver's care."
I leaned back.
"So you're buying me."
His eyes widened.
"No."
"You're offering me millions to stay and raise your nephew."
"You're the only person he trusts."
I looked at him.
"That doesn't mean you get to purchase my life."
Dominic was silent.
Then he said quietly, "I don't know how else to help."
The admission surprised me.
I studied him.
For the first time, he looked genuinely uncertain.
I took a breath.
"Start by asking what I want."
He nodded.
"What do you want, Bernie?"
The question was so simple it almost made me cry.
"I want Oliver safe. I want to know what happened to his parents. I want my nursing career back."
I swallowed.
"And I want to stop being afraid every time somebody knocks on a door."
Dominic looked down.
"Money can help with some of that."
"Yes."
"But not all."
"Exactly."
That afternoon, I spoke with Rebecca.
She explained the importance of separating Oliver's care from Dominic's financial influence.
His legal status needed to be established properly.
Any long-term guardianship or custody arrangement would need appropriate approval.
My role in the child's life should not be determined by a private payment.
I agreed.
Then Rebecca asked something unexpected.
"Bernie, how do you feel about Dominic?"
I nearly dropped my coffee.
"What?"
"Dominic Farrow."
"He's terrifying."
Rebecca waited.
I sighed.
"He's also strangely gentle with Oliver."
"And?"
"And he listens sometimes."
She laughed.
"Sometimes?"
"When he remembers I'm not one of his employees."
Rebecca grew serious.
"Be careful. You can recognize good qualities in someone without overlooking the harm caused by his choices."
I nodded.
"I know."
I thought about Kessler.
The corrupt payments.
The threat to Oliver.
The years Dominic had spent keeping dangerous men around because they were useful.
Kindness to a baby didn't erase any of that.
That evening, Dominic found me in the library.
Oliver was asleep upstairs under the care of a vetted pediatric nurse whom I had helped select.
For the first time in weeks, I was holding a book without listening for footsteps.
Dominic stopped in the doorway.
"May I come in?"
I looked up.
"It's your library."
"That wasn't my question."
I smiled faintly.
"Yes."
He sat across from me.
For a moment, we listened to rain against the windows.
Then he said, "I withdrew the trust proposal."
I looked up.
"Why?"
"Because you were right."
I raised an eyebrow.
"That sounds painful."
His mouth moved.
"It was."
I laughed.
He continued.
"I've arranged for my attorney to work with the proper authorities regarding Oliver's support. His needs will be met without making you financially dependent on me."
I nodded.
"Good."
"And Bernie?"
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry my men hurt you."
My smile faded.
He looked toward the bruise that still lingered faintly along my jaw.
"I gave orders that encouraged them to value obedience over judgment. That was my responsibility."
I swallowed.
"Thank you for saying that."
Dominic leaned forward.
"I also owe you an apology for how I first treated you."
I watched him.
He continued.
"I saw you holding my nephew, and all I could think about was getting him back."
"He's not an object you lost."
"I know that now."
I looked down.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then Dominic asked, "Would you have saved him if you knew who his family was?"
I considered the question.
"Yes."
His eyes softened.
"Why?"
"Because he was a baby."
I looked toward the staircase.
"He didn't get to choose the family he was born into."
Dominic was silent.
Then he whispered, "Neither did I."
Later that night, the security investigation identified how the nursery photograph had been taken.
An unauthorized access token had been used to view a camera installed in the room.
The token belonged to a former employee.
Someone who had supposedly left Dominic's organization six months earlier.
The account name was Samuel Farrow.
Dominic stared at the report.
For the first time in weeks, he looked more frightened than angry.
May you like
Because either his missing brother was somehow using that account—
Or someone wanted him to believe Samuel was still alive.
