(Dominic’s POV)
The hospital bill crumpled beneath my fingers, sharp paper corners biting into my skin like it could bleed answers. I didn’t let go. I couldn’t. I stood in the center of my office, the silence between us louder than anything Club Lux could ever pump through its sound system.
Across from me, Anna stood with her back to the door, her arms wrapped tightly around her bag like it could protect her from the truth—or from me. Like I hadn’t already torn the lock off every door between us tonight.
She was guarded, lips pressed into a tight line, but her eyes—they gave her away. Brown, defiant, beautiful. And trembling.
I stared at the bill again. CT scans. Blood work. Chemotherapy.
Not for her. I knew her too well. She would’ve said something if it were her body breaking. This wasn’t Anna’s pain. This was someone else’s. Someone she would do anything for.
And I hated that I didn’t know who.
“Who is it?” I asked, my voice low, precise. Controlled—but just barely.
Her eyebrows furrowed. “What?”
“You heard me.” I looked up, eyes locking with hers. “Who are you doing this for?”
She blinked, thrown off. “It’s not—” She shook her head. “It’s not what you think.”
“No?” I took a slow step forward. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re lying to my face, working yourself into the ground, hiding hospital bills like you’re running some kind of goddamn con. So help me understand, Anna.”
She inhaled sharply, the pulse at her throat fluttering like a warning bell. “It’s none of your business.”
The words tasted like betrayal.
“None of my business?” I repeated, quieter this time, more dangerous. Another step. She didn’t move, but her knuckles whitened around her bag.
I stood right in front of her now. Close enough to see the way her lip quivered. She was fighting herself. I could feel it.
“You think I’m going to stand here and let you fall apart for some other man?” I said, my tone sharpening. “That I’ll just watch you throw yourself to the wolves for someone who didn’t even show up tonight?”
Her mouth opened. She froze. That one moment of hesitation was everything I needed.
“There’s no one else,” she whispered.
The relief that hit me was instant—and infuriating. Why should I care that there was no one else? Why did it matter that she hadn’t replaced me?
Because I hadn’t replaced her.
“Then why won’t you tell me the truth?” I demanded, stepping even closer, caging her in. “Why all the secrets? Why show up out of nowhere, five years after disappearing, and still lie to my face?”
“I don’t owe you anything,” she snapped, the fire flaring in her again.
And God, I wanted that fire.
“You do,” I growled. “You owe me every minute of silence you gave me. You owe me every night I spent wondering what the hell I did to lose you. You don’t get to vanish without a word and come back pretending like we’re strangers.”
Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her throat working around words she couldn’t say.
“You were everything to me,” I said, softer now, but not weaker. “And you left.”
She looked away. That alone was enough to crack something inside me.
“You think I can just ignore this?” I held up the bill again. “Anna, you’re in trouble. Whoever this is for—it’s serious. And you’re standing here like I’m your enemy.”
She didn’t speak. But her eyes glistened.
“I didn’t ask for your help,” she said, voice quieter.
“You don’t have to,” I replied. “I’m going to help you whether you like it or not.”
That got her attention. Her head snapped toward me.
“I’m offering you a deal,” I continued, watching her every reaction. “I’ll take care of all of it. The debt, the hospital, everything. You won’t lift a finger. You won’t work nights in that club. You won’t scrape by another day.”
Her brow creased. “Why?” she asked, barely a whisper.
“Because I want you.”
Her breath hitched, her posture stiffening like I’d just slapped her.
“Of course you do,” she muttered bitterly. “That’s what this is really about. Not the bills. Not the mystery. You just want me on a leash again.”
“No,” I said. “I want you where I can protect you. Where I can see you. You think I’m going to let you disappear again? Not a chance.”
She took a half step back. I mirrored her.
“What’s the catch?” she asked, voice tight, skeptical.
I gave her the truth.
“You’ll work for me. Personal assistant. Days, evenings. You’ll be on-call. Close.”
Her stare narrowed. “And?”
I let the silence linger before finishing, voice low and certain.
“And at night, you’re mine.”
Her eyes widened. The shock, the disbelief—it hit all at once.
“You want me to what?”
“You heard me.”
“You’re disgusting,” she spat.
“Maybe,” I said, calm as stone. “But I get what I want. And what I want—is you. In my space. In my bed. Close enough that you can’t keep lying to me.”
“You are out of your mind,” she said, stepping away. “You think I would ever agree to that?”
“You will,” I said simply. “Because whoever this bill is for… they’re running out of time. And you know it.”
She froze.
Got you.
Her lips parted, but no sound came. Her throat worked around the words she couldn’t say, and her fingers dug into her bag like it was the only thing keeping her upright.
“Don’t do this,” she said finally, her voice cracking. “Don’t reduce this to some... twisted game.”
“This isn’t a game,” I said. “This is me putting everything on the table. You want to save whoever this is? Let me help. Let me own it. And you.”
Tears shone in her eyes, but she blinked them away fast, replacing them with a look that should’ve cut—but didn’t.
“You’re a bastard.”
I gave her a slow, cruel smile. “And you’re out of time.”
She turned sharply, ripping the door open with enough force to make it slam against the wall.
I didn’t follow her.
I didn’t need to.
Because desperation always wins. And whether it was tonight, or next week, or the moment that next bill came in…
Anna Rodriguez would come back to me.
And when she did, it would be on my terms.
Anna’s POVI should’ve known the moment Dominic said, “It’s taken care of.” That man doesn’t handle things—he annihilates obstacles. So, of course, Anthony Bellafonte, the Anthony Bellafonte, managed to pull a gown out of thin air in two days. The same Anthony whose client waitlist is longer than a royal coronation and twice as dramatic.And here he was now, fluttering around me like a peacock draped in silk.“Bellissima,” he breathed, circling me with the intensity of a man inspecting a priceless artifact. “How do you exist, hm? Women would sell their souls to look like this, and you—” He snapped his fingers in the air. “You roll out of bed and ruin couture for the rest of humanity.”I laughed, a little nervously, smoothing down the skirt. “I don’t know about ruining couture. More like trying not to trip over it.”Anthony clutched his chest like I’d stabbed him. “Tripping? On this masterpiece? Cara, you do not trip. You glide. You float. You—” His eyes darted to the dress again, dark
The warehouse mess was still eating at the back of my head, but the thought of Anna flickered at the edges of my mind like a persistent flame. We hadn’t talked about the lies, the secrets, the way she’d looked at me that night—raw and unraveled—before I’d stitched her back together with my hands and teeth. But that was the thing about us. We didn’t need to talk. The silence between us was its own language, and right now, it said normal.Or as normal as we got.I checked my watch. Late enough to drag her home.I headed for her office, which was on the same floor as mine. I needed her as close as I could keep. I would have wanted her inside my room, honestly, but I knew she wouldn’t have approved.The door was cracked open, and I caught sight of her inside, leaning against the edge of her desk, talking to one of the coworkers—a tall guy, young, clean-cut. The way his eyes lingered on her said more than words.And Anna—my Anna—was smiling back, her fingers curled around a pen like she ha
Dominic’s POVI was in the office, with a glass of single malt, and the endless columns of numbers that never seemed to add up the way I wanted them to.The amber glow of the desk lamp caught the edge of my pen as I circled a figure, the ink bleeding slightly into the paper.My phone lit up with Dario’s name. Dario is one of my enforcers and he didn’t call unless it mattered. I answered quickly.“Boss,” he said without preamble, voice clipped, “we’ve got a problem. The warehouse down on Pier Forty-Seven, near the old docks was hit last night. The new shipment is gone.”The pen stilled in my hand.“How much?” I asked, though I already knew.“All of it.” He said grimly.Pier Forty-Seven was one of our quieter locations, the kind that kept out of the spotlight. Whoever hit it wasn’t just after the product—they were sending a message. The timing was too fucking perfect to be a coincidence.“How much is ‘all of it,’ Dario?” I asked, though I already knew I’d hate the answer.“Close to thre
The sunlight cut through the curtains, sharp and unrelenting, dragging me awake. My face was stiff with dried tears, eyes swollen, heart a lead weight in my chest. Last night had been a war—one I’d fought silently, trapped between the need to confess everything and the terror of what would happen if I did. If he knew about Lily… The thought alone made my throat close. He’d want her. He’d take her. And she was already so fragile.I tried to shift away, but an arm—heavy, possessive—locked around my waist, yanking me back against a wall of heat. Dominic. As if I could ever forget the feel of him, the way his body owned the space around me even in sleep. The scent of him, whiskey and cedar and something darker, clung to my skin like a brand.“It’s morning,” I whispered, voice frayed.“So it is.” His reply was a rough scrape of sound, that fucking voice of his—dark and lazy, still thick with sleep. It curled low in my stomach, traitorous and familiar.“I have to get up.”“Do you?” His hand
Dominic’s POVMy phone buzzed just as I was about to throw it across the room.Roman. Finally.“Found her,” he said, like it was nothing. Like he was reading a sports headline. “She’s at the same hospital she was at last time.”Hospital.That one word made the breath catch in my chest. I didn’t move. Didn’t speak.Not again.“Alone?” I asked, voice clipped.“I’m not there, Dom.”I closed my eyes. “Then go. Tell me what she’s doing there.”A pause. Then a dry, unamused laugh. “What am I, her babysitter now?”I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Roman—”“No. You wanna stalk her? Do it yourself,” he snapped. “I’m not following your girl into a hospital like some jealous ex with a burner phone. You’re the one obsessed, not me.”“You said she’s at the same hospital.”“Yeah. And?” He sounded impatient now. “You knew she was hiding something. Still is. And if you’re gonna keep pretending it doesn’t eat you alive, fine. But I’m not playing the sidekick in your personal soap opera. You want the fu
Dominic’s POVShe wasn’t answering.Three calls. No response. No message.I stared at the empty screen for a second too long before shoving the phone into my jacket pocket. My jaw clenched. Something wasn’t right. I felt it—not in that casual, overthinking way. This was instinct. Sharp and immediate.I pushed back from my desk and stood, grabbing my jacket off the back of the chair. The numbers on the report Rosa had just given me blurred in the corner of my vision. Irrelevant.I stepped out of my office just as Andrew rounded the corner, a file in hand, eyes focused on the next task.“Sir, I—”“Where’s Anna?”He blinked, thrown off by the interruption. “She’s not at her desk?”I didn’t bother answering. I walked past him, toward her workspace.Empty.Her tablet was gone. So was her bag.Something in my chest went cold.Andrew caught up beside me. “She said she had to step out. Personal matter.”I turned slowly. “When?”“Around two, I think. She told me she’d inform you herself—”“And