Chapter Seventeen: The Ghost of His Past

Rhea bursts into the nineteenth-floor lobby, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. 

7:55 AM. She is certain she is walking into an execution.

Dominic called her six times last night. She hadn't intentionally ignored him; she had put her phone on silent in the sterile, suffocating quiet of her father’s hospital room.

She had spent the evening cocooned in Julian’s warmth - a temporary, fragile sanctuary from the storm. Rhea had allowed herself to forget the plum-colored bruise on her shoulder and the man who put it there.

Dominic didn't pick up when she finally called him back. In his world, silence isn't peace - it is the heavy, static calm before a hurricane.

She walks past the reception, offering a tight, pained smile to Tessa. Julian catches her eye from his desk and gives her a small, secret wink. 

Rhea feels a flicker of hope, a warm spark in her chest that is extinguished the moment she grabs the office iPad and hurries toward the heavy double doors of the lion’s den.

She pushes the door open, bracing for a dangerous stare or a cold reprimand. Instead, the air is sucked out of her lungs.

A woman is there.

She is leaning into Dominic, her body draped over the edge of his mahogany desk with a practiced, feline grace. Dominic is sitting back, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching her with an expression that is utterly unreadable. 

As Rhea watches, the woman leans in to brush her lips against his.

Rhea lets out an awkward, choked cough. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, her face burning with a mix of shame and a sudden, sharp jealousy she refuses to name. 

She turns to flee.

“Stay.”

Dominic’s voice is like a whip; casually calm, yet utterly commanding. It hooks into her and pulls her back.

Rhea freezes. He wants her to stay? He wants her to stand there like a servant and watch him caress another woman? The arrogance is staggering.

“Ava was just about to leave,” Dominic says, his eyes finally flicking to Rhea.

The woman turns around, and Rhea feels a sickening lurch in her stomach. Ava looks like she was carved from marble specifically to stand at Dominic’s side. 

She is tall, radiant, with a curtain of blonde hair and a face that belongs on a billboard. She is young - twenty-six, maybe twenty-seven.

Rhea suddenly feels ancient. She feels outdated, dusty, and used.

“I’m not ready to leave, Dominic,” Ava purrs, turning back to him, ignoring Rhea as if she is a piece of the wallpaper.

“My assistant is here. I have work to do,” Dominic replies.

Assistant.

The word stings more than any physical punishment. He had called her that in front of Marcus, too. Is that all she is to him? A warm body to fill a dress and a seat? 

Is this the "Naughty Ava" Marcus mentioned?

“I’ll sit on the couch,” Ava replies sweetly, her voice dripping with the confidence of someone who knows she belongs there. “I won’t disturb you, I promise. I just need to be near you. It’s been what... two years?”

Rhea feels the familiar, frantic urge to hide. Her hand moves toward her glasses, the old habit screaming for her to shield herself. She remembers his rule - never touch the glasses - but the sight of Ava’s perfect, smug face snaps something deep inside her.

Rhea reaches up and deliberately shifts her glasses higher on her nose. She looks him right in the eye as she does it.

Damn him and his rules.

He expects her to be his untouched, private property while he entertains a blonde goddess in his office?

Dominic’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second before they narrow into lethal, obsidian slits. The look is a death sentence. How dare you.

Rhea doesn't look away. For once, she doesn't care if the world burns.

“Excuse me,” Dominic says, his voice a low, vibrating threat. He doesn't look at Ava. He doesn't even acknowledge her existence anymore. His focus is entirely, terrifyingly fixed on Rhea.

He crosses the room in four long, predatory strides. He snatches the iPad from her hand, slams it onto the coffee table with a violent bang, and grabs her upper arm. He doesn't steer her; he hauls her out of the office.

Ava stares after them, her mouth falling open in shock as Dominic drags his assistant toward the private restroom in the executive hall.

He shoves Rhea inside and slams the door, the lock clicking with a heavy sound of finality. He throws her back against the cold tile, his body pinning her there before she can even draw a breath.

“How dare you?” he snarls, his face inches from hers, his breath smelling of dark coffee and cold fury.

“I… I…” Rhea’s voice fails her, the words dying in her throat as she looks into the black, lethal void of his eyes.

“You think having a guest would save you?” Dominic’s voice is a low, dangerous vibration. “I could break you right in front of Ava. I could make you scream with the door wide open. I’m saving your pride by bringing you in here; don’t make me regret it.”

“Why are you even angry, Mr. Ashcroft?” Rhea’s fear sparks into a brief, reckless flame of defiance. “You should be with her. She’s perfect. She’s everything you wanted. I’m just... I’m too old for this game.”

“I decide who I want,” Dominic growls, his eyes darkening until they are pure obsidian. He presses his weight into her, making her feel every inch of his dominance. “And right now, I want to teach you why you should never, ever break my rules.”

Before she can blink, he hoists her up with a grunt of exertion.

Her skirt bunches high as he slams her down onto the edge of the cold marble vanity. He steps between her knees, his thighs spreading hers wide, his presence an absolute, crushing weight.

“Your girlfriend,” Rhea pants, her heart hammering so hard it aches against her ribs. “She’ll misunderstand. She’ll think there’s something between us.”

“Isn’t there?” Dominic’s fingers are already at her blouse, undoing the buttons with a clinical, terrifying speed.

“You broke the rules, Fragile. You ignored my calls. You stayed out all night. And then you had the audacity to touch those glasses in front of me.” He doesn't wait for her to answer; he wrenches the silk blouse off her shoulders, the fabric groaning as he forces it down her arms.

“It wasn't intentional! My father - he was in the ICU—” Rhea’s defense turns into a broken, high-pitched moan as Dominic’s hand slides up her inner thigh. His palm is rough, dragging her skirt upward and hooking his fingers into the lace of her panties, pulling them down with a single, violent tug.

“Adjusting those glasses was intentional, Fragile.” He grabs her hips, pulling her forward until she is at the very edge of the marble, her legs dangling and wide. “You were jealous. You wanted me to see you.”

“No! I wasn't... I’m not!”

“Liar.” Dominic leans in, his nose brushing the dark, blooming mark he left on her collarbone. “You were screaming for my attention. Now you have it. All of it.”

He doesn't use a pen this time. He doesn't use his fingers. He drops to his knees between her trembling legs and uses his mouth.

Rhea’s head hits the mirror with a dull thud. She clamps her hands over her mouth, her eyes widening in sheer terror as his tongue flicks against her sensitive, aching heat.

"Mmmph! Ahhhh! Sir!" The moan is muffled by her own palm, a desperate, wet sound that vibrates in the small bathroom.

The marble is freezing beneath her, but Dominic is a furnace. He is ruthless, his tongue tracing her with a possessive hunger that makes her vision blur. 

He sucks at her sensitive nub, his teeth grazing her skin until she is sobbing into her hands.

"Please... ah!... stop... she's right outside..."

"Let her hear you," Dominic mumbles against her wet skin, his voice thick with a dark, primal satisfaction. He reaches up, grabbing her wrists and pulling her hands away from her face, pinning them to the vanity so she is forced to be loud.

He plunges his tongue inside her again, mimicking the thrust of his finger, forcing her to feel every slick, invasive movement. 

Rhea howls, a long, jagged moan of "Yes... ahhh, god, please..ahhh." as she begins to climax. Her body shudders, her heels drumming against his back as he devours her release, drinking her in like he is starving and she is his only source of life.

“Dominic?”

The voice is sharp, echoing from the other side of the door.

Ava.

Rhea freezes, her entire body locking up. The handle rattles. Click-click.

Dominic doesn't stop. If anything, he becomes more fervent, his mouth sucking her sensitive skin in a way that makes her want to wail.

“Dominic, are you in there?” Ava calls again, her knuckles rapping against the wood.

Rhea squeezes her eyes shut, hot tears leaking out. The humiliation is total. She is being taken by her boss while his beautiful, blonde girlfriend stands three inches away, separated only by a sliver of oak. 

Every lick, every sharp intake of her vagina feels like a betrayal of her own dignity.

She can hear Ava’s muffled confusion, the sound of her expensive heels pacing the hallway.

Please go away. Please don’t let her open this door.

He stands up abruptly, his face flushed, his eyes wild. He is breathing in ragged hitches, looking down at her ruined, shivering form on the cold marble.

"You're soaking for me," he hisses, his thumb dragging through her moisture and smearing it across her lower lip. "Even with her outside, your body knows who it belongs to."

He watches her face as the sound of Ava’s heels finally fades down the hall. The moment the hallway goes silent, he stands and crushes his mouth against hers. It isn't the gentle, healing kiss Julian gave her in the hospital. 

This is a theft. It is a reminder that he owns the air in her lungs and the moisture in her vagina.

“Mr. Ashcroft!” she gasps as he bites into the side of her neck, right above the collar of her blouse.

Dominic steps back, adjusting his suit as if he hasn't just committed an act of war in a public restroom. He reaches down, picks up her lace panties from the floor, and casually folds them into his pocket.

“Dress yourself. We’ve kept Ava waiting long enough.”

Rhea sits on the vanity, shattered. She feels hollow, used, and utterly terrified.

“Meet me in the office in two minutes,” Dominic commands, his voice returning to its cold, corporate steel. “And leave your phone on my desk before you go home tonight. You’re grounded, Fragile.”

He walks out, the door swinging shut behind him.

Rhea sits in the silence, her skin humming with a shame she can't wash off. He has done that with his girlfriend at the door. He has made her a secret, a dirty thing hidden in the dark.

If he can do this to her while Ava is here, what will he do to Julian if he ever finds out about the hospital?

She stands on trembling legs, her blouse buttoned hurriedly, her skirt wrinkled. She has no underwear, no pride, and no way out. She adjusts her glasses one last time, her hand shaking.