Chapter 5 - The Woman Behind the Red Wraps
Freedom felt strangely uncomfortable to Clara.
For four years she had awakened every morning knowing exactly what she had to do.
Hide.
Work.
Protect Ethan.
Move if necessary.
Never fight.
Never attract attention.
Never trust anyone who could discover Scarlet.
Then Vincent Rourke was arrested.
The Keystone network began collapsing.
Federal investigators seized accounts, properties and betting records across several states.
Dozens of people were charged.
Clara should have felt liberated.
Instead, she felt lost.
Three weeks after Lakeside Arena, she stood behind the bar at the Cobalt Lounge polishing a glass.
The bartender stared at her.
“You know you don’t actually have to work here anymore.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Why?”
“Because I work here.”
“You defeated a criminal gambling empire.”
“I did not.”
“You fought in an illegal boxing match while federal agents raided the building.”
Clara placed the glass down.
“That part is technically true.”
“And you’re polishing glasses.”
“Yes.”
The bartender shook his head.
“You are the strangest person I know.”
The brass doors opened.
Conversation quieted.
Dominic Castellano entered.
Clara sighed.
The bartender grinned.
“And here comes strange person number two.”
Dominic approached the bar without his usual entourage.
He wore a charcoal suit.
His wristwatch gleamed.
Clara looked at him.
“What are you doing here?”
“I own part of the building.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“Bourbon.”
“You came here for bourbon?”
“And conversation.”
“That sounds expensive.”
“I can afford it.”
She poured his drink.
Dominic sat.
For several seconds they looked at each other.
“You disappeared,” he said.
“I went home.”
“For three weeks?”
“I like my apartment.”
“You ignored seven messages.”
“Eight.”
Dominic frowned.
“You counted?”
“I wanted to know how long it would take you to stop.”
“Apparently longer than eight.”
Clara smiled despite herself.
He studied her.
“How’s Ethan?”
“Good. He starts physical therapy Monday.”
“And Maya?”
“Living with her mother.”
“Samuel?”
“Witness protection discussions.”
Dominic nodded.
Everything had changed.
Yet something remained unresolved between them.
Clara knew it.
So did he.
“You saved my brother,” she said.
Dominic looked at his glass.
“So did you.”
“No. I mean after.”
Rourke’s organization had left behind complicated debts and threats. Dominic had quietly paid for additional security around Ethan.
Clara discovered it only later.
“I told you I didn’t want to owe you.”
“You don’t.”
“Then why?”
Dominic looked at her.
“Because I wanted to.”
That answer frightened her more than any demand.
Clara folded her arms.
“What do you want from me?”
“Dinner.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“Dinner.”
“You’re joking.”
“No.”
“Dominic Castellano, feared criminal king of Chicago, is asking a waitress to dinner?”
“I thought we established you weren’t just a waitress.”
“Apparently we established nothing.”
He smiled.
“Tomorrow. Seven.”
“No.”
“Friday?”
“No.”
“Saturday?”
“Dominic.”
“What?”
“I’m not dating you.”
“I didn’t say date.”
“What would you call it?”
“Two people eating food.”
“That’s a date.”
“Then I’m dating you.”
“No, you’re not.”
The bartender quietly moved away to hide his laughter.
Dominic leaned closer.
“Why are you afraid of me?”
Clara’s amusement vanished.
“I’m not.”
“You were willing to fight me.”
“Yes.”
“You were willing to walk into Rourke’s arena.”
“Yes.”
“But dinner scares you.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
Clara looked away.
Because punches were simple.
She understood violence.
She understood threats.
She understood survival.
Kindness was harder.
Kindness created expectations.
Affection created vulnerabilities.
Love created something that could be taken.
Dominic seemed to read part of that answer.
“I’m not asking you for anything you don’t want to give.”
“That’s what everyone says.”
“I’m not everyone.”
She looked at him.
“That’s exactly what worries me.”
He accepted that.
Then Dominic placed a business card on the counter.
“What’s this?”
“An address.”
She read it.
A community center on the South Side.
“Why?”
“Go tomorrow.”
“For dinner?”
“No.”
“What’s there?”
“You’ll see.”
Then he left.
Clara hated mysteries.
Which, she realized, was probably why Dominic had done it.
The next afternoon she went.
The building was old but newly renovated.
Inside, children trained in a boxing gym.
Not underground fighters.
Kids.
Some awkward.
Some talented.
All smiling.
Leo stood beside the ring.
Clara stared at him.
“You’re involved?”
“Apparently.”
“With what?”
Leo pointed toward a sign.
HAYES YOUTH BOXING FOUNDATION.
Clara stopped.
“What?”
Dominic appeared behind her.
She turned.
“What did you do?”
“Something useful.”
“You put my name on a building?”
“Technically the foundation leases it.”
“Dominic.”
He explained.
The seized Keystone records had revealed dozens of young fighters trapped by illegal contracts.
Some needed legal representation.
Others needed legitimate training opportunities.
Dominic had funded a nonprofit program.
No gambling.
No ownership.
No debt.
Training, education and scholarships.
Clara stared through the glass at the children.
“Why my name?”
“Because you understand what this place should be better than I do.”
Her throat tightened.
“You’re trying to buy me.”
Dominic’s expression changed.
“No.”
“It’s what you do.”
“No, Clara.”
“Fifty thousand dollars. Security. Now this.”
He stepped closer.
“The fifty thousand was money you earned.”
“You humiliated yourself to give it to me?”
“I didn’t know you’d humiliate me when I made the wager.”
Despite herself, she nearly smiled.
He continued.
“Security was because your brother was threatened through me.”
“And this?”
“This has nothing to do with what you owe me.”
“Then why?”
“Because you said your father taught you fighting was knowing when you didn’t have to hurt someone.”
Dominic looked toward the children.
“I thought maybe they should learn that too.”
Clara became silent.
One little girl inside the gym missed a punch and laughed.
Her coach corrected her stance.
Clara remembered herself at twelve.
Her father tying her gloves.
Never fight angry, kiddo.
Anger makes you stupid.
Fight because you have something worth protecting.
Clara wiped her eye.
Dominic pretended not to notice.
“Do you need a coach?” she asked.
Leo smiled.
“We’ve been hoping one might show up.”
Clara turned toward Dominic.
“You planned this.”
“Maybe.”
“You’re manipulative.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
She looked again at the gym.
Something unfamiliar stirred inside her.
A future.
Not hiding.
Not running.
A life.
“I’ll help twice a week.”
Dominic smiled.
“Three.”
“Two.”
“Three.”
She raised an eyebrow.
He remembered the boxing ring.
“Two is perfect.”
For the first time, Clara laughed freely around him.
Over the next months, the Hayes Youth Boxing Foundation grew.
So did something between Clara and Dominic.
Slowly.
Awkwardly.
Against both their instincts.
He attended training sessions pretending to discuss finances.
She knew better.
He brought coffee.
Usually wrong.
She drank it anyway.
Ethan recovered enough to walk without assistance.
Maya became an assistant coach.
Leo complained constantly and secretly loved every minute.
One evening, Clara found Dominic alone in the ring.
He was wrapping his hands.
“You planning another bad wager?”
He looked up.
“Rematch.”
She laughed.
“You really want another humiliation?”
“I’ve improved.”
“So have I.”
“Three minutes?”
Clara stepped through the ropes.
“No money.”
“What do I get if I win?”
She considered.
“Dinner.”
Dominic smiled.
“And if you win?”
“Dinner.”
His smile softened.
“That seems suspiciously fair.”
Clara raised her gloves.
The bell rang.
Dominic approached carefully.
Clara moved.
He jabbed.
She slipped.
But this time, instead of countering, she laughed.
Dominic stopped.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re laughing at me.”
“Maybe.”
He moved again.
She dodged.
He chased.
For the first time their ring contained no anger.
No pride.
No threats.
Just two people who had met through violence discovering they preferred each other without it.
When the bell rang, neither knew who had won.
They stood beneath the lights, breathing hard.
Dominic removed his gloves.
“So?”
“So what?”
“Dinner.”
Clara stepped closer.
“You didn’t win.”
“Neither did you.”
“That’s debatable.”
“Everything with you is debatable.”
She looked at him.
Then kissed him.
Dominic froze.
Clara pulled back.
His stunned expression made her smile.
“Still think you understand women?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Then she climbed through the ropes.
Dominic followed.
“Where are you going?”
“Dinner.”
He smiled and followed her.
Neither noticed the black sedan parked across the street.
Inside it, Anthony Vale watched them leave.
May you like
He had avoided arrest the night of the raid.
And he had spent three months preparing to remind Dominic Castellano that some betrayals did not end quietly.
