Chapter 7 - When I Finally Kissed Dominic, It Was After He Told Me He Might Be Indicted.
The indictment rumor started on a Monday.
Not Arthur’s.
Dominic’s.
There.
A local investigative reporter published that federal prosecutors were reviewing Costello-linked gambling proceeds, legacy private lending, and possible obstruction tied to witnesses in old labor cases.
There.
No charges yet.
Good.
Still.
I read the article twice.
Then sent Dominic one message:
Is this accurate?
There.
He called.
I answered.
“Some.”
There.
“Which part?”
“Gambling proceeds, yes.”
There.
“Private lending, yes.”
There.
“Obstruction, under review.”
There.
“Labor?”
“Some old cases.”
Good.
“Are you going to be indicted?”
“I don’t know.”
There.
“Do your lawyers?”
“They think charges are likely in at least two areas.”
There.
My stomach dropped.
Then:
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Silence.
There.
Good question.
He said:
“I was going to.”
There.
“When?”
“After counsel knew more.”
There.
“That sounds like deciding what uncertainty I can handle.”
There.
He went quiet.
Good.
“Yes.”
There.
“Don’t.”
“I’m sorry.”
Good.
“Specific.”
He took breath.
“I am sorry I withheld a material change because I wanted to present it after I understood it.”
There.
“I made your information decision for you.”
There.
Good.
“That’s the apology.”
There.
He knew now.
Then:
“Do you want space?”
There.
I almost laughed.
“Stop making everything a consent seminar.”
There.
He did laugh.
Good.
Then:
“Yes.”
There.
“One day.”
“Okay.”
Good.
I spent day angry.
Not because he might be charged.
I already knew crimes existed.
Because withholding felt familiar.
Different scale.
Different intent.
Still.
You don’t need to know yet.
I’ll handle it.
There.
I hated those sentences even when unspoken.
Then therapy.
I had started with a counselor through Harbor Line months earlier.
There.
Marisol Vega.
She asked:
“What are you afraid will happen if you date someone who commits crimes?”
There.
I stared.
“Is that a real question?”
“Yes.”
There.
I listed:
Violence.
Secrets.
Police.
Enemies.
Money imbalance.
Being disbelieved.
Getting absorbed into his reputation.
There.
Then:
“What are you afraid will happen if you leave him because he has committed crimes?”
There.
I frowned.
“That I’ll be punishing him for telling truth.”
There.
“Is leaving punishment?”
There.
There.
Good.
No.
Not necessarily.
Then:
“What do you want?”
Again.
Hated question.
“I want to know him.”
There.
“And?”
“I want the option to stop.”
Good.
Then keep building option.
There.
My own lease.
Own bank.
Own job.
Own lawyer if needed.
No joint finances.
No gifts.
Good.
The practical things made emotion less mystical.
There.
Next day, I asked Dominic to meet in public park.
There.
No date.
Conversation.
He came.
One security person at distance.
I knew.
Good.
We sat.
Cold bench.
I said:
“If you’re charged, what happens?”
There.
He explained.
Potential plea.
Trial.
Asset scrutiny.
Board leave.
Possible prison.
There.
No euphemism.
Then:
“Would dating you make me part of investigation?”
“Possibly as witness to recent conversations, though I keep business away from you.”
There.
“Could they subpoena my phone?”
“Potentially.”
There.
My stomach tightened.
Good to know.
“Could your enemies target me?”
“Possible.”
There.
“How likely?”
“Low based on current assessments.”
There.
“Current?”
“Yes.”
Good.
Then:
“Why should I do this?”
I asked.
Dominic looked at me.
“You shouldn’t unless you want to.”
There.
Good.
“That is not romantic.”
“No.”
There.
“I could tell you I’ll protect you.”
There.
“That would be emotionally satisfying and structurally dishonest.”
There.
I looked.
He continued.
“I cannot guarantee protection.”
There.
“I can tell you risks I know.”
There.
“I can respect boundaries.”
There.
“I can accept you leaving.”
There.
“I can keep changing systems whether you stay or not.”
Good.
There.
I wanted him more after that.
Annoying.
Then:
“Do you love me?”
I asked.
His face changed.
There.
Maybe too soon.
Still.
He answered.
“I am becoming very close to it.”
There.
Good.
Not instant forever.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I think about you when you are not in room.”
There.
“I want to make your life easier and have to remind myself wanting is not permission.”
There.
“I want you to meet my sister.”
There.
“Why?”
“Because she will tell you things about me I won’t enjoy.”
There.
Good.
I laughed.
Then:
“Do you love me?”
he asked.
I stared.
“Rude.”
“Fair.”
There.
“I don’t know.”
Good.
He nodded.
No wounded face.
Good.
Then silence.
I looked at his mouth.
There.
Dangerous.
I said:
“I want to kiss you.”
There.
His eyes changed.
“Okay.”
I frowned.
“Ask.”
There.
“May I kiss you?”
“Yes.”
Good.
He leaned.
Slow.
No dramatic grab.
No hand at neck.
There.
His hand lifted toward my cheek.
Stopped before touching.
I took his wrist.
Placed palm against side of my face.
There.
Exactly where Arthur’s fingerprints had once bruised.
My body froze for half a second.
Dominic felt it.
Stopped.
There.
“Do you want me to move?”
I breathed.
“No.”
There.
Then:
“Just wait.”
Good.
He waited.
His palm stayed.
Not squeezing.
Warm.
Then I leaned into it.
There.
Choice.
The kiss was brief.
Then longer because I made it longer.
Good.
When we separated, I cried.
There.
Embarrassing.
Dominic looked alarmed.
“Did I—”
“No.”
There.
I laughed through tears.
“No.”
Good.
“Then?”
“I hate my nervous system.”
There.
His mouth softened.
“Seems unfair.”
Good.
He did not say:
I’ll erase what Arthur did.
Good.
We sat.
Then I asked about his sister.
“Sofia?”
There.
“Yes.”
“Does she live here?”
“Chicago suburbs.”
There.
“What happened to her?”
Dominic took time.
“Her husband controlled money.”
There.
“Isolated her.”
There.
“Grabbed her once.”
There.
“She left after seven years.”
There.
“Did you know before?”
“Not enough.”
There.
“Were you the mafia boss then?”
He almost smiled.
“Something close.”
There.
“And you still didn’t know?”
“No.”
Good.
That mattered.
Power does not make you omniscient.
Then:
“When she told you?”
“I wanted to destroy him.”
There.
“You didn’t.”
“No.”
“Because she said no.”
“Yes.”
There.
“Was that hard?”
He laughed once.
“Very.”
Good.
Then:
“She told me if I scared him for her, I would prove men still made choices in her name.”
There.
There.
Smart sister.
I wanted to meet her.
Good.
We did two weeks later.
Sofia Costello owned a small accounting consultancy.
There.
Interesting.
She laughed when I told her I used to think accountants were safe.
“Occupational propaganda.”
Good.
She was forty-two.
Dark hair.
Dominic’s eyes.
No fear of brother.
There.
She said:
“He is not gentle.”
There.
Dominic stared.
“Sofia.”
“What?”
She looked at me.
“He is controlled.”
There.
“Different.”
There.
Good.
I listened.
“He has a temper.”
There.
“He can be arrogant.”
There.
“He uses silence to win arguments.”
There.
“Sofia.”
“You invited honesty.”
Good.
I laughed.
Dominic did not.
Then she said:
“He also learns.”
There.
“Slowly enough to be annoying.”
There.
Good.
She did not certify safety.
Perfect.
Then she asked me:
“Does he know where you live?”
There.
“Yes.”
“Does he have key?”
“No.”
Good.
“Keep it that way until you want otherwise.”
There.
Dominic rolled eyes.
I liked her immediately.
Then Arthur’s zoning case.
The former city employee pleaded guilty.
There.
One consultant too.
Arthur’s emails showed he authorized a payment after being told it was “for retirement advisory.”
There.
Prosecutors argued euphemism masked bribe.
Arthur argued legitimate consulting.
There.
Graham Hollis had signed a budget but no evidence he knew recipient arrangement.
There.
Graham was not charged at that stage.
Good.
Arthur negotiated plea to one conspiracy count plus his prior financial offense? Need careful.
He accepted a plea acknowledging he knowingly facilitated an improper payment to influence inspection timing.
There.
Not entire zoning network.
Good.
Sentence later.
His professional consulting license? There may not be license. He lost clients and was barred from certain city contracting for period under settlement.
Good.
No total ruin.
Then he asked through counsel to reduce protective order because he had “moved on.”
There.
Carmen asked my position.
“No.”
There.
Good.
Judge kept order through expiration.
There.
No need him to agree.
Then Dominic’s indictment came.
There.
Illegal gambling conspiracy.
Tax offense.
Witness obstruction linked to two old payments.
There.
No assault.
No homicide.
Good.
He called me before news broke by fifteen minutes.
This time.
There.
“I’m being charged.”
he said.
“I know enough to tell you now.”
There.
Good.
“What happens?”
“I surrender tomorrow through counsel.”
There.
“Do you want me there?”
he asked.
I thought.
“No.”
There.
Good.
He nodded through phone.
“Okay.”
Then:
“Do you want me to call after?”
“Yes.”
There.
Good.
He surrendered.
No raid.
No dramatic cuffs at restaurant.
There.
Court.
Bail with conditions.
He stepped back from executive role.
There.
Press exploded.
Mafia Boss Romance? Not public romance yet maybe some paparazzi had photos from park. We should decide. Maybe not widely known; one gossip shot. They might mention "woman identified as Bellamy waitress". Could be harmful. Better not center.
Then one photo surfaced.
Us outside Ukrainian restaurant.
There.
Headline:
COSTELLO DATING WAITRESS WHO FLED CITY FIXER.
There.
My stomach turned.
I had a job now.
Not waitress.
The article called me “plus-size server.”
There.
There.
My body became headline.
Again.
I stared.
Dominic called.
“I’m sorry.”
There.
“Did you leak?”
“No.”
“Then stop.”
Good.
Then he said:
“My publicist wants to issue—”
“No.”
There.
Good.
“What do you want?”
“Nothing.”
There.
“My name is not part of your defense.”
Good.
He paused.
“Understood.”
There.
I issued one statement through Carmen:
Ms. Valenti is a private person and has no role in Mr. Costello’s criminal case. Her prior protective-order matter is unrelated.
There.
Good.
No romance denial or confirmation.
Then I went to work.
A volunteer stared.
My boss, Diane, asked:
“Do you need schedule changes?”
There.
“No.”
“Security?”
“No.”
There.
“Anything?”
“Please tell people not to ask me about him.”
There.
Done.
Good.
My job stayed mine.
Then Dominic’s case moved.
Plea negotiations.
Evidence strong on gambling and tax.
Obstruction complicated.
There.
One witness had accepted money after threats from another Costello associate.
Dominic authorized payment knowing witness wanted to avoid court.
There.
Did that equal obstruction? Lawyers fought.
Good.
Months.
I kept dating him.
There.
Not waiting for verdict to decide whether affection existed.
Also not pretending charges were unfair because I loved him.
Good.
At sentencing? not yet; CH8 maybe.
But before that, I told him:
“I love you.”
There.
When?
Not during crisis.
At a grocery store.
He was holding two jars of pasta sauce.
There.
One had too much sugar.
I said:
“Put that back.”
He said:
“You are controlling.”
I laughed.
Then:
“I love you.”
There.
He froze with jar in hand.
Perfect.
“What?”
“I said I love you.”
There.
He put jar down.
Both jars.
Good.
Then:
“I love you too.”
There.
No proposal.
No redemption music.
Just aisle seven.
Good.
We bought the less sugary sauce.
There.
Three days later, his lawyer called to say prosecutors had reached a plea framework.
There.
May you like
Love and consequence arrived in same week.
That felt appropriate.
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