Chapter 3 - A Reckoning

(POV Dominic)

The moment Anna Rodriguez walked into Club Lux, the night changed.

I felt it in my chest before I even saw her—this shift in the air, like the room itself held its breath. It was impossible to mistake her. Even after five years, she still moved with that same grace, the same fire simmering beneath the surface, though she tried to bury it under a polished smile and tired eyes.

I hadn’t expected to see her tonight—or ever again, for that matter. I didn’t believe in fate, but if I did, it would look like this: Anna stumbling back into my orbit as though the last five years hadn’t existed. As though she hadn’t walked out of my life without so much as a goodbye.

I leaned back in my seat, my fingers drumming lazily against the leather booth. I let my gaze follow her, cold and deliberate. She looked different. Her long black hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail, though a few stray strands framed her face. She was thinner than I remembered, her cheekbones sharper, her shoulders tense like she was carrying a weight far too heavy for someone her size. But her eyes—those deep, expressive brown eyes—hadn’t changed. They were the same ones that haunted my nights, though now they were guarded, like she was hiding something.

I wasn’t the kind of man to let things go unanswered, especially when it came to Anna.

She didn’t look my way, but I could tell she felt me watching her. The way her movements stiffened when she passed my table, the way her gaze avoided this corner of the VIP section—it was all too telling. She was pretending I didn’t exist, but I’d always been good at reading her. She was rattled.

And that only made me more curious.

I watched her serve table after table, her smile plastered on like armor. The way she handled herself reminded me of the Anna I used to know—the one who fought her battles with quiet resilience, never letting anyone see her bleed. But that woman had also been mine, and the thought of her slipping back into my life without answers stirred something dark and possessive in me.

When those drunk bastards started harassing her, my patience snapped. I let them test the limits of their stupidity for all of ten seconds before I stood.

The rest was a blur. A threat here, a fist there, and they were done. Cowards, the lot of them. I didn’t spare them another glance as they scrambled out of the backroom, leaving Anna and me alone in the aftermath.

When I turned to her, my first instinct was to close the distance between us, to pull her into me and demand to know why the hell she was here. But the guarded look in her eyes stopped me cold.

She was afraid of me.

The realization hit harder than I expected, and I hated it. Anna had never feared me before—not when I was a reckless, possessive idiot five years ago, and not when my world had started to bleed into hers. But this Anna, the one standing rigid and silent against the wall, looked like she wasn’t sure if I was going to hurt her or save her.

“You're still reckless.” I state, keeping my voice steady.

She flinches, but keeps her head down. Doesn't look at me, doesn't talk.

I keep asking her why she is working here but her vague answers and sarcasm gets us nowhere.

I wanted answers. I wanted to demand she tell me what the hell she was doing here, why she’d left, why she’d stayed away for so long. But something about the way she was looking at me—like a cornered animal—made me hold back.

“Stay out of trouble,” I said instead, the words coming out colder than I intended. Then I turned and walked away, my hand tightening into a fist at my side.

But I didn’t leave.

As I made my way back to the VIP section, I signaled to one of the bouncers, nodding toward Anna. “Bring her upstairs,” I said, my tone leaving no room for argument.

The private lounge above the nightclub was quieter, shielded from the chaos below by soundproof glass and a locked door. It was where I handled business when I didn’t want prying eyes watching. And tonight, it was where I planned to get the truth out of Anna.

I poured myself a drink while I wait for her. Five years. Five fucking years. And this is how I see her again. I am not even sure what I feel about this situation right now. But I don't like it, that I can tell.

The door opened and she stepped into the lounge cautiously, her arms folded across her chest as though she could shield herself from me. I leaned against the bar, swirling the whiskey in my glass as I watched her take in the space. Her posture was stiff, her movements deliberate, but I could see the tension in her shoulders.

“Close the door,” I said.

She hesitated for a fraction of a second before nudging the door shut with her foot. The click of the lock echoed in the quiet room.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. I wanted to let the silence stretch, to make her squirm, but I was the one who broke it.

“Five years,” I said, setting my glass down with a deliberate clink. “That’s how long it’s been since you disappeared without a word.”

She didn’t flinch, but her fingers tightened around her arms. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”

The bitterness in her voice sent a rush of anger through me, but I kept my expression neutral. “You think so?”

“I know so,” she said, lifting her chin. “I had my reasons, Dominic. That’s all you need to know.”

Her defiance was like a slap to the face. The Anna I remembered had been fiery, yes, but she’d also been open with me. Vulnerable in a way that had made me want to protect her from everything and everyone. This version of her felt like a stranger.

“You had your reasons,” I repeated, my tone laced with mockery. “And those reasons were worth walking out on me? On us?”

Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t respond.

I took a step closer, my gaze boring into hers. “You don’t get to play coy with me, Anna. Not after the way you left.”

She shifted under my scrutiny, her eyes darting to the side like she was looking for an escape. “This was a mistake,” she muttered, turning toward the door.

I moved before she could reach it, stepping into her path and forcing her to stop. She froze, her breath hitching as I towered over her.

“You don’t get to run this time,” I said, my voice low and dangerous.

Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, and I could see the flicker of panic in her eyes. But beneath that, there was something else—something that reminded me of the way she used to look at me before everything fell apart.

“Why are you here, Anna?” I asked, softening my tone just enough to coax an answer out of her. “Why this club? Why now?”

Her gaze flicked to mine, and for a moment, I thought she might actually tell me the truth. But then her expression hardened, and she shook her head.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“It matters to me.”

She hesitated, her body tense as though she were waging some internal war. “I needed a job. That’s all.”

“You could’ve worked anywhere,” I said, my eyes narrowing. “Why here?”

She didn’t answer, but the way her hands fidgeted betrayed her. She was lying—or at least, she wasn’t telling me the whole truth.

I leaned closer, my voice dropping to a whisper. “What are you hiding?”

Her breath hitched, and for a split second, I saw the mask slip. There was fear in her eyes—fear and something else. Guilt, maybe.

“Nothing,” she said, but the word sounded hollow.

My hand twitched at my side, the urge to grab her, to shake the answers out of her, almost overwhelming. But I didn’t. Instead, I took a step back, giving her just enough space to breathe.

“You’re lying,” I said simply.

She opened her mouth to argue, but I cut her off.

“You’ve always been a terrible liar, Anna. Don’t forget—I know you.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her shoulders stiffening. “You don’t know anything about me anymore.”

The words stung more than I cared to admit, but I didn’t let it show. Instead, I watched her, waiting for her to crack under the weight of my silence.

But she didn’t.

Her defiance only made me more certain that she was hiding something. And whatever it was, I would find out.

“You’re not leaving this room until you tell me the truth,” I said, my voice low and unyielding.

Her eyes widened slightly, but she quickly masked it with anger. “You can’t just keep me here.”

“Watch me.”

She glared at me, but I could see the fear behind it. The vulnerability she was so desperate to hide.

I stepped closer again, leaning down until we were eye level. “You don’t get to walk back into my life and act like I don’t exist. You don’t get to hide from me, Anna.”

Her breathing quickened, and for a moment, the tension between us was almost unbearable. But then she straightened, her chin lifting defiantly.

“I’ve already told you everything you need to know,” she said, her voice steady despite the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.

I studied her for a long moment, my jaw tightening as frustration coiled in my chest. She was a puzzle I couldn’t solve, a lock I couldn’t pick—and it drove me insane.

But I wasn’t done with her. Not by a long shot.

“Fine,” I said finally, my tone icy. “You want to play this game? We’ll play. But I’ll find out the truth, Anna. One way or another.”

Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t respond.

I turned and walked toward the door, leaving her standing in the center of the room, her breathing ragged and her resolve shaken.

The game had just begun, and I had no intention of losing.