Chapter 2

Being with Dominic — you could call it an accident.

The day we met, my best friend Vivian and I were waiting tables at a restaurant. A drunk customer started groping me. Dominic saw it, kicked the guy across the room, and just like that, forced his way into my life.

After the chaos died down, I brought him back to the apartment. But the place had been cleaned out — every last thing. That's when I realized Vivian had panicked about getting dragged into the mess and disappeared with all the money.

I said nothing and quietly tended his wounds. Under the lamp light, his eyes caught the glow — bright and shining, more brilliant than anything I'd ever seen.

"I mean it — I've got nowhere to go. Let me stay. I'll protect you from now on."

Dominic was spectacularly bad at holding down a job. He burned through cash faster than I could earn it. I had no choice but to pick up two extra shifts just to keep us afloat.

During that stretch, all I did was work. When my body couldn't take it, I popped pills. New bruises and scrapes piled up from one shift to the next.

But the night he found out I'd been pushed around again for a few extra dollars, he went quiet for a long time. In the middle of the night, half-asleep, I felt his arms tighten around me. I kept my eyes closed, turned into his chest, and whispered that everything was okay.

The next morning, he left early. When I saw him again, he was standing by a car I couldn't even name, parked downstairs.

That's when I learned the truth. He was the heir to the Harrington fortune — born proud and headstrong, refusing to be anyone's puppet. He'd run away to make something of himself on his own.

Fortunately, the Harringtons were powerful enough that his parents, however indulgent, didn't need a strategic marriage. They were cold toward me, but they didn't stand in our way.

He hired an etiquette coach for me and took me to every gala and fundraiser.

At one event, he held me close in front of the cameras and murmured in my ear.

"Don't be scared, Claire. I'm here. Nobody touches you."

Once, I arrived at a gala ahead of him because of a work delay. A group of guests humiliated me in front of everyone.

I wanted to swallow it, let it go — I didn't want to cause trouble for Dominic. But the next second, a hand closed around my wrist. That familiar warmth, that scent — it steadied me instantly.

"Hey. It's okay. Remember what I told you?"

I watched, stunned, as he tucked me behind him. Then he grabbed a bottle and smashed it over the man's head.

Glass shattered and caught the light on its way down, glittering like the fireworks Mom used to take me to see when I was little.

"The deal's off. Harrington Corp is done with the Bennett Group. Permanently."

I was completely, irrevocably gone.

From that day on, everyone in Chicago knew — the Harrington heir had someone he'd burn the world down for.

The day we were old enough, he dragged me to city hall and we got our marriage license. But after the wedding, the doctors told me that the years of overwork had likely left me unable to have children.

The day the results came in, he held me and his voice broke.

"That's my fault. If we can't have kids, then we won't. I swear, Claire — I'll spend the rest of my life making this up to you."

But in our second year of marriage, Vivian came back. She got on her knees and begged, said she'd lost her mind back then, and now her mother was in the hospital and she had nowhere else to turn.

I felt sorry for her. I found her a job, wired her money, and personally looked after her mother.

Day one, Dominic came home complaining that Vivian couldn't do anything right. If it weren't for my sake, he'd never have hired someone so incompetent.

Day ten, Dominic told me Vivian had messed up another spreadsheet and nearly made him chew out the wrong person in a meeting.

Day thirty, Dominic asked me to have a talk with Vivian — she'd been high-maintenance on business trips, making a fuss about every little thing.

Day sixty, Dominic promoted Vivian to his personal assistant and started training her himself.

Day one hundred and fifty, he walked in with Vivian at his side and threw a divorce agreement in my face.

"Claire, the family needs an heir. I'll tell everyone you've been committed for a mental health condition. Once the baby's born next year, I'll bring you home."

"Claire, you know you've got nothing without me."

From that day forward, I knew — my sky had gone dark.