CHAPTER 22

Dominic's POV 

The wine glass glowed amber in the dim light of my study, the bourbon-spiked red blending gradually in my hand like a fuse burning in slow motion. I'd poured it too strong, but I needed it that way- needed the weight, the heat, the diversion. The lights of the city outside sparkled against the darkness like a distant, indifferent galaxy. Miles Davis crooned low from within the speakers, something slow, sax-heavy, and mellow enough to stave off the rage from rising too soon.

I needed stillness. Some semblance of peace to quiet the volcano bubbling just under the surface. Ever since Liana’s name started making rounds again, since that cursed gala night, when everything I’d buried started clawing its way back to the surface, I hadn’t slept more than three hours a night.

The fireplace spoke in hushed tones, casting shadow puppets across the dark wood paneling and the leather spines on the shelves. I closed my eyes, letting the armchair's buttery leather envelop me. Letting the jazz seep into the spaces in my chest where fear had begun to get its grip.

Then the phone rang.

Not the burner.  My primary line.

The one only a few people were allowed to have and so I thought it was work related.  I leaned in so fast the bourbon swirled against the rim of the glass. My eyes narrowed at the screen.

AUDREY.

My blood went cold before anger surged up to replace it.

What on earth was she doing?

I responded, teeth gritted. "Audrey," I snarled, low and crisp, the kind of whisper that brooked no nonsense. "What do you think you're doing, calling me here? On this line?"

Her tone was languid, husky, and unapologetic like honey laced with poison. "Because I haven't been paid in full, Dominic. That wasn't our agreement."

“The job's not finished," I snapped, already on my feet, glass in one hand, phone gripped tightly against the other. "I said. You don't get the rest until the dust settles. And you sure as hell don't get to call me at home—

"You don't get to tell me what I can or can't do," she cut in silky smooth, a glint of poison beneath the velvet. "Not when you still owe me. And by the way, your precious Liana? She's closer to catching you than you think. She knows it was me that posted the picture."

I stopped dead in my tracks, the force of her words hitting me like a splash of cold water. "How…"

"She's a woman in tech, she has good buys, Dom. Real ones. Government level. They've been scraping digital fingerprints for days. You think they are not capable of already tracing the image to me? The only reason she hasn't torched me yet is because she's trying to trace it all the way back to the source."

My heartbeat throbbed in my temple. I started pacing, glass clenched tight enough that my knuckles turned white. "You weren't supposed to leave a trail."

"I didn't. Not intentionally. But it's 2025, darling. Privacy's a myth. You want someone dead, you'd do best to dig your own bloody grave for them."

"You're going to get us both found out," I growled, my words filled with suppressed anger. "You swore you'd keep yourself concealed."

"I did. But now I've got a storm on my doorstep because you decided to play games instead of paying out."

My hand shook. I crashed the glass down on the mahogany table before it fell from my hand. "You knew the risks. You took the job. You don't get to rewrite the terms now."

“You think I care about your rules? I go down, I take you with me. Email trails. Wire transcripts. I have copies of everything. Hell, I'll give Liana the burner text with emoji code. She's smart—she'll put it all together." 

"She'll destroy you, too," I said, voice steel. "You're not invincible.

“But I’m not the one with the reputation to lose,” she replied, her tone darkly amused. “You think the media won’t feast on this? That Dominic Smith, Cambridge investor and tech expert paid a third-party to ruin his Ex-wife career? They will know you're jealous of her. That's a front-page scandal. That’s podcasts, think-pieces, viral hashtags. Be a smart boy, Dom. Pay me before your face is next to hers on every screen in England.”

I gritted my teeth. "This wasn't the bargain. You were supposed to take her down, destroy the brand, leak the dossier, send her crawling. Now she's on the warpath, and I'm the one who's exposed. As long as she's still digging, still making inquiries, I'm not safe. I'm not paying a damn thing until she does stop. That was the bargain."

Audrey's tone turned icy. "You're lying to yourself. And to me. You just want to keep jerking the leash for as long as you can. But newsflash, baby— as long as I dont see my money, it's going to be over for you."

I slammed my palm into the bookshelf, causing a crystal decanter to tremble. "You think threatening me's going to work? You think you're the first to try?"

"Oh, I know I'm not," she purred. "But I might just be the first to get through."

The silence on the line tightened, strained and dangerous. My office door opened slowly and Serena walked in, cause me to stop in my tracks. 

“Baby, is everything alright?” Serena asked. 

“Everything is fine.” I replied then proceeded ro pretend I was talking to a client . 

“As long as you dont deliver my goods and deliver it accurately, theres no pay for you.”

Then she spoke, like a knife slipped between ribs, "Oh? You've got company now. Your little miss is in the house and suddenly you need to sound professional? God, you're a pathetic coward Dominic."

Her laughter was soft, nearly sympathetic. "Well. Your call. Pay up. Or I provide her with the parts and allow her to build the bomb herself."

Click. The line was dead.

For a second, the silence shut in like the walls were falling in. I just stood there in the center of the room, heart racing, every nerve screaming with fear and fury. The shadows on the walls danced with the firelight, mocking me.

And then Serena slipped further into the office  in on bare feet, the wood floor polished and reflective underfoot, the hem of my shirt skimming her thighs. Her legs were bare, her skin shining in the firefight like ivory. Her hair was long and pulled into a loose knot, tendrils spilling around her face like she hadn't meant to look sexy but just always did anyway.

She didn't say anything at first. Just walked in, closed the door behind her softly, and leaned against it.

"Hey," she whispered, her voice silky smooth and every bit as dangerous. "You okay?"

I blew a breath out through my nose. "Fine. Long day, that's all.".

She walked slowly towards me, her eyes scanning my face, catching the tension I hadn't had time to hide. She settled herself on the edge of my desk, one leg swinging gently as she leaned in and threaded her fingers through my hair.

"You sounded tense over the phone," she said, brushing a soft kiss across my lips. "Who was that?"

I paused. Just long enough to come up with a lie.

I swallowed the heat rising in my chest and forced a smile. “Just… a transaction going south. Some idiot is trying to rush payment before the product’s even close to being delivered.”

Her brow arched slightly. “Ugh. One of your side suppliers again?”

I nodded, too quickly. “Exactly. Guy thinks I’m an ATM.”

She made a sympathetic noise, but her eyes were sharp and searching. "Well," she said finally, voice breathy, "don't send a dime till the goods arrive. People are too greedy these days."

I laughed, low and dry. "Couldn't agree more."

She leaned in once more, her perfume brushing against my skin—jasmine, lavender, something warm and earthy and soft. She kissed my cheek and breathed into it, "Come on. Let's go to bed. You've been too busy. You need to sleep."

I nodded, not looking over my shoulder. Not looking how close it all was to exploding.

I slipped my phone into my pocket and followed her out, my hand brushing against hers as we walked down the hallway to the bedroom. She was saying something about changing the sheets and I made some murmuring reply, distracted.

Before turning the corner, I gave the study door a last glance wondering what would have happened if Serena had heard the actual conversation that happened in there. She would be so disappointed. 

If Audrey uttered one word to Liana, all I'd made, everything I still had remaining, would shatter before my eyes.