Wife?

Dami’s POV

“Your wife? Is this man crazy or something?” Doman asked, one brow arching in a mixture of disbelief and challenge. His voice was deep with a dangerous edge.

Axel’s fists clenched at his sides, the veins in his neck stood out, his jaw ticking as if he might explode. The heat in his eyes was pure rage.

Something fluttered low in my stomach when Axel called me his. The flash in his eyes had been almost familiar. For one brief heartbeat, the old Axel was there. I shook it off before it could soften me.

Doman’s hand slid around mine. It was warm, firm and possessive. I pulled my mask back on.

“I’m not your wife. I’m your ex wife, you fool. Did you forget? We’re divorced, and you don’t get to disrespect my man!” I snapped.

Axel’s shoulders dropped, his head bowed. Watching him sink into shame sent a dark thrill through me. He deserved every moment of this.

“You heard her,” Doman said, his tone smooth but stern. "You don’t get to disrespect me, Axel.” Then he turned back to me, his eyes softening as though we shared a private joke.

“What’s he even doing here? Why do you want to keep him and his miserable family under this roof?” he asked.

I crossed the room and sat on the couch, spine straight, forcing myself not to stare at Doman’s eyes. “What are you looking at?” I snapped at Alexa, catching her gaze. “Get me a drink and prepare something to eat. Sophia, supervise them. I don’t trust these people.”

They scattered at once. When I turned back to Doman, a smile tugged at my lips before I could stop it. "He’s working for me now. That’s how he’ll suffer for everything he’s done.”

“You’re a clever woman,” Doman said, winking. His wink wasn’t boyish, it was a slow and deliberate spark, the kind that made my pulse skip. “That’s what excites me.”

Alexa brought the drinks. I handed one to Doman, our fingers brushing. His touch lingered a bit too long, heat licked up my arm. He sipped slowly, watching me over the rim of his glass.

“There’s more to come,” I murmured, letting my eyes meet his. He leaned back, shirt riding up enough to reveal a shadow of ink on his skin. "You have a tattoo?” I asked, surprised.

He nearly choked on his drink and set it down, clearing his throat. "How did you know?”

“Your shirt rose up.” I tilted my head, eyes catching his. “What kind of tattoo? Let me see clearly.”

Doman hesitated. His discomfort was obvious, but after a while he lifted the fabric to reveal the ink. It was a gun and skull sprawled across his stomach."I got this for fun. Nothing serious,” he said quickly.

I shrugged, though inside my pulse quickened. Tattoos didn’t scare me, i worked for a mafia lord for three years. But Doman’s tattoo wasn’t just a mark, it was a warning. And yet, instead of fear, I felt a strange pull toward him.

“I have to attend to some things,” he said, standing. “I’ll be back before dinner. Need to grab some of my clothes.”

“Alright then. That’s fine by me. You have my number, call me if you can’t make it back like you said.”

He smiled, that smile was trouble. I walked him to the door, aware of the warmth of his presence beside me. At the door he brushed kisses over both my cheeks soft, and deliberate. My breath caught before I could hide it.

When the door shut, Axel was there blocking my path. His face was flushed, his fists tight and his eyes burning with jealous.

“Dami,” he muttered.

I scoffed. "Boss, my brother is very dangerous,” Axel said, his voice low but shaking. “You don’t have to do this to get back at me. Punish me any other way, but playing with my brother will put all of us in danger.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, tilting my head. “First of all, Axel, you’re only entitled to speak to me when I tell you. And second, you have no business in my affairs. I choose to do whatever I want. If you’re not comfortable, you can leave.”

His knuckles whitened and he looked away, breathing hard. I could almost taste his jealousy. I didn’t care. This was just the beginning.

In the kitchen Sophia was on her phone instead of watching the cooking.

“I told you I don’t trust these people. Our food could be poisoned, Sophia,” I scolded.

She rolled her eyes and stood up. “They won’t. We’ll eat from it together. I’m so tired,” she groaned.

“I don’t care. You’re not leaving this kitchen until they’re done,” I ordered, making her mutter under her breath.

Upstairs, the master bedroom hit me like a ghost. Our room. Memories rose, how Axel and I married, how he took my virginity. He was loving, caring and intentional then. Now everything had rotted because of his selfish mistakes. I felt no remorse because he deserved far worse.

My boxes of clothes were already there, so I changed into a white baggy shirt and shorts. Exhaustion weighed on me, but beneath it was a restless spark. Doman’s tattoo, Axel’s warning, the company’s future. The dots connected, yet Doman didn’t feel dangerous to me. Not yet.

He was on my side. He had no reason to harm me.

The door opened, pulling me from my thoughts. Sophia walked in with a huge sigh. "You’ve changed your outfit,” she said, joining me on the bed.

“Yes. Are they through with the cooking?” I asked. She nodded.

Her eyes met mine, serious now. “I think adding Doman to this game plan will be disastrous. We can do this alone. You’ve already done the worst thing you can do to this man. He has nothing left. That’s enough revenge. I don’t like Doman. Dami, are you sure you really know who you’re letting into your life? I just don't think.." She hesitated, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“I hope we don’t regret this…” Her words trailed off, heavy with warning.