Page 112 of Mine
I’ve seen horror. Experienced it first-hand.
But I’ve also seen acceptance. Beauty. Felt love—real love. Not just from the man beside me, but from the entire Syndicate—my new family. While my own father sold me out to save his skin, my new brothers-in-law didn’t hesitate to come for me. Ciaran took the rap so I wouldn’t lose my husband. I’ve never known loyalty like it. While The Syndicate is a criminal organisation, there’s no questioning their morality.
The city is a better place with them overseeing the darker aspects of this life.
And I am a better woman with them in my life.
I’ve learnt that not everything has to sit in the box society says it belongs in.
That family is forged by loyalty and love, not blood.
That there’s no such thing as black and white. In fact, grey is my new favourite colour. I still hate the uncertainty and the violence, but while the human race exists, both of those things will always exist. Being with Dominic has taught me that violence doesn’t necessarily mean cruelty.
Sometimes it’s the only way to stop cruelty.
I curl my bare feet beneath me on the cushioned lounger and watch the light dance across the water. My body is still healing—bruises fading, wrists tender where the plastic ties bit into my skin—but I’m alive.
And so is Dominic.
That’s all that really matters.
His hand settles on my thigh, warm and solid, grounding me in a way nothing else can.
‘What are you thinking?’ he murmurs, trailing his fingers over my skin.
My eyes drift to the far edge of the garden where the security lights blink softly against the trees. Lewis, James, and several others are somewhere out there, watching the perimeter like always. Matt and Dylan survived the Colombian’s attack.
Logan didn’t make it.
A fact that I’m still trying to process.
I didn’t know him as well as James and Lewis, but I do know that he died trying to protect me.
That therapy I thought I’d need?
Yep, I’ve started.
‘I’m thinking about Ciaran,’ I say eventually.
Dominic’s fingers tighten on my leg, and he forces a small smile, but it doesn’t meet his dark eyes. ‘Should I be jealous?’
‘How can you joke when he’s sitting in a cell because of us?’
He exhales slowly, tilting his head towards mine. ‘Ciaran is sitting in a cell because he shot Santiago Cruz in front of half the police force in Belfast.’
‘To save us,’ I remind him.
‘To save the entire family,’ Dominic corrects me quietly.
The breeze lifts a strand of my hair, and Dominic reaches for it, tenderly tucking it behind my ear. Our eyes lock. That familiar chemistry pulses between us, but it’s so much more than lust. It’s a connection that runs deeper than simply marriage. It’s a rare, profound trust that’s builton respect and survival, and a love deeper than I ever dreamed of.
‘It could have been so much worse,’ Dominic continues.
‘How?’
‘The gun Ciaran used was only tied to Cruz’s killing. Nothing else.’
I swallow.
