Chapter 39: Bound by Fire

The warmth of Dominic’s hand in mine was a silent promise—one that I didn’t know whether to accept or burn. His fingers lightly curled around mine, and for a fleeting moment, I allowed myself to believe in the comfort it brought. But as soon as the thought entered my mind, I shoved it aside.

I hated him. I had to.

The man who had destroyed my father, who had forced me into this twisted game, couldn’t just be someone I allowed myself to feel something for. His words echoed in my mind—I love you. But how could I trust those words? He had lied to me before, manipulated me. The man who claimed to love me was the same one who had built an empire on the backs of people like my family.

But as the hours dragged on and I remained in this sterile hospital bed, Dominic didn’t leave my side. He watched over me as if his very existence depended on my recovery. It was suffocating, but at the same time, there was something in the way he held me, the way his gaze never left me, that made my heart race in ways I couldn’t control.

It was the cruelest irony. The man who was my enemy, who had brought me so much pain, was now the one I found myself… needing.

I tried to push him away, but my body betrayed me. I couldn’t ignore how his touch sent waves of warmth through me, how his presence grounded me in ways that scared me. I wasn’t supposed to feel anything. Not for him.

And yet, every time his eyes met mine, every time his voice cracked with sincerity, the walls I had so carefully built began to crumble. I couldn’t help but see the man behind the ruthless CEO, the man who had loved and lost, the man who was more broken than anyone could ever imagine.

I leaned back against the pillows, the ache in my body finally dulling into something bearable. Dominic hadn’t left the chair by my bedside, his eyes dark with exhaustion, but he didn’t move. Not an inch. The silence between us was thick, like a storm waiting to break.

“You’re staring at me again,” I said, my voice hoarse. I tried to sound annoyed, but it came out softer than I intended.

He didn’t look away, his gaze intense, never faltering. “I’m watching you recover. I’m not going anywhere.”

I couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped me. “You’re relentless.”

A slight, almost amused smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You don’t know the half of it.”

My fingers twitched, but I forced myself to keep them still, refusing to show how his words affected me. I wasn’t going to let him see me unravel. Not now, not after everything.

“I don’t need you to protect me, Dominic,” I said, my voice steady, even though my heart was anything but. “You’ve done enough damage already.”

The words were like a slap, and I knew they cut deep. I saw the flash of pain in his eyes, but it was quickly masked by something colder—something darker. He was good at hiding his emotions, better than anyone I knew, but I could read him now. I had learned his expressions over the last few weeks. The subtle twitch of his jaw when he was angry. The way his hand flexed when he was frustrated. And right now, he was both.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said quietly, his voice low but raw. “You have to believe me.”

The sincerity in his voice was a punch to my gut. I wanted to scream, to tell him everything he had done to me, everything he had taken from me. I wanted to hate him, to push him away so far he couldn’t hurt me again.

But deep down, in the part of me I refused to acknowledge, I wanted to believe him.

“I don’t know what you want from me anymore, Dominic,” I muttered, looking away. “I don’t even know what you feel.”

He leaned forward, his eyes never leaving mine. “I want you, Elena. I want all of you. But I’m not going to force you into anything you’re not ready for.”

His words landed between us like a declaration, heavy and unspoken, hanging in the air like a challenge. I opened my mouth to argue, to push back, but before I could speak, he was standing, his form towering over me. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, and I saw the war waging inside of him—this wasn’t just about me anymore. This was about him too. About what he wanted. About what he was willing to fight for.

“Don’t say it like that,” I snapped, sitting up despite the ache in my side. “You can’t just—”

“Yes, I can,” he interrupted, his voice rough. “Because I’m done pretending that I don’t care. I’m done pretending that I’m not in love with you.”

His words struck me like lightning, paralyzing me for a moment. I blinked, trying to make sense of them, but everything in my mind was a mess. He loved me? After everything?

“You’re lying,” I said softly, almost to myself. “You don’t love me. You’ve hurt me, Dominic. You’ve betrayed me in ways I can’t even begin to explain.”

But instead of backing down, he took a step closer, his eyes burning with intensity. “I’m not lying. I’ve spent every moment of this godforsaken engagement trying to keep my distance, trying to keep things professional, but all I’ve wanted was you. You.”

His breath was ragged now, and his hands were trembling. He reached out and cupped my face, his thumb brushing against my cheek as if testing the waters. For a moment, all I could do was breathe. Just breathe. And when I did, I could feel it—the pull. That invisible force between us. The heat.

“Why now?” I whispered, my voice trembling as I reached up to touch his hand, still resting on my cheek. “Why after everything?”

“Because I’m not running anymore,” he said, his voice low and intense. “I’ve been running from you, from what I feel for you, but I’m done. I can’t pretend anymore.”

I stared at him, the words I wanted to say swirling in my head, but nothing came out. Instead, I found myself closing the distance between us, my lips trembling as I whispered, “I hate you.”

Dominic didn’t flinch. Instead, his lips curved into a slow, knowing smile, and then, with the gentleness I didn’t expect, he kissed me. The kiss was slow, hesitant at first, as if both of us were waiting for the other to pull away. But neither of us did. The kiss deepened, the heat building between us, and all I could think of was how much I wanted this—how much I wanted him—despite everything.

I pulled away just slightly, my forehead resting against his, breathless. “I hate you,” I repeated, this time with a laugh that was almost a sob. “But I need you.”

Dominic’s hands tightened on me, pulling me closer. “I know.”

And as I closed my eyes, surrendering to the kiss, I realized something: I didn’t just need him. I wanted him. And maybe that was the most dangerous thing of all.