The Iron Vow

As the heavy oak doors closed behind Ethan’s frantic protests, the mansion fell back into a profound, peaceful silence.

The rain continued to lash against the glass, but inside, the air was warm and still.

Dominic looked down at me, a faint shadow of amusement in his ice-gray eyes.

“Well?” he asked. “Was that everything you hoped for?”

I walked over to the grand piano near the window, tracing my finger across the polished mahogany surface where the wedding centerpiece should have been sitting if my life hadn't detonated four days ago.

“It was loud,” I admitted. “And messy.”

“Do you regret it?” Dominic asked quietly, closing the distance between us until I could feel the heat radiating from his wool coat. “Marrying a man the city calls a monster?”

I looked up at him.

I thought about the past three years of polite compromises, of shrinking myself to fit into my mother’s expectations, of ignoring red flags because I was terrified of being alone.

Then I looked at the ring on my finger.

“My mother always told me to be careful and make safe choices,” I said softly, my hand resting against his chest.

Dominic raised an eyebrow.

“And?”

“Marrying you,” I whispered, “was the first reckless decision of my life that actually made sense.”

Dominic smiled—a real, genuine smile that changed his entire face—and pulled me close as the city lights flickered across the dark river below."