Chapter 7 - The Shadows of Bellgrave
News of the event traveled through Bellgrave like wildfire.
By the next morning, every newspaper, underground syndicate network, and high-society parlor was screaming the same unbelievable story: Dominic Castellano, the dark king of the Midwest, had publicly crowned a heavy-set temporary maid as his future wife.
While the city buzzed with shock, the inner circle of the Castellano family was preparing for a dangerous shift.
In the private war room on the estate's lower level, Dominic sat at the head of a long steel table. Surrounding him were his top six capos—hardened, brutal men who managed the docks, the casinos, and the arms routes across the territory.
On Dominic's right sat Marin.
She was no longer wearing a grey apron. She wore a stunning dark burgundy dress made of rich silk that hugged her generous curves, her dark hair cascading down her back in soft, gleaming waves. The platinum signet ring sparkled on her hand under the recessed lights.
"Don Castellano," spoke up Capo Valenti—a heavy-set, scarred man who managed the northern territory. "The Moretti family in New York is calling this a sign of weakness. They say you’ve lost your mind over a servant girl. They are moving three shipments into our river docks tonight."
Dominic didn't get angry. He leaned back in his leather chair, a cold, predatory smile touching his lips.
"They think I am weak because I chose love over political alliances, Valenti?" Dominic asked softly.
"They think you're distracted, boss," Valenti clarified respectfully.
Marin leaned forward, resting her soft elbows on the table, her dark eyes sharp and analytical. She looked at the harbor map displayed on the digital screen.
"They aren't moving three shipments into the river docks," Marin spoke up, her clear voice cutting through the heavy masculine energy of the room.
The capos stared at her in surprise.
"What do you mean, Miss Holloway?" Valenti asked.
"Call me Donna Marin," she corrected smoothly, her eyes narrowing at the digital map. "And look at the tide schedules. The northern river docks have an eight-foot drop at midnight tonight due to the storm runoff. Heavy cargo ships can't clear the sandbar. It's a decoy."
The capos leaned in closer to the screen, recalculating the depth charts.
"She's right..." Valenti gasped, his eyes widening. "The water is too shallow! The real shipment has to be coming through the southern rail yards!"
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Dominic looked at Marin, his eyes burning with immense pride and dark, intoxicating desire. He reached beneath the table, his hand finding her thigh, giving it a firm, loving squeeze.
"You see, gentlemen?" Dominic said to his stunned capos. "My future wife isn't just the heart of this house. She's smarter than all of you combined."
