All Chapters of The Don’s Dangerous Addiction: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Avery watched Dominic through the dull ache in her shoulder.His head weighed heavy against her. Though his breathing had leveled out, his face remained deathly pale—almost translucent in the dim morning light filtering through the curtains.“Dominic?” She shifted tentatively.He let out a low groan, reaching blindly for his phone. His hand swept through empty air before hitting the lamp with a jarring clatter. Avery's breath hitched. His eyes were wide open, but he was frozen in a strange, petrified rigidity.“Are you awake?” she whispered.Dominic didn't speak. His Adam's apple bobbed violently as he turned his head mechanically. His gaze—unfocused, lost—landed on the empty air beside her shoulder.“Where are you?” His voice was hoarse, stripped of its usual authority.A chill crawled up Avery's spine. “...I'm right in front of you.”He lunged, his hand clawing at the air until it slammed against her arm. He gripped her instantly, nails digging deep into her skin as if she were his

Inside the car, Dominic yanked off the tea-gray glasses and tossed them onto the leather seat. Without the shield, his eyes remained half-closed, the pupils twitching fitfully beneath thin lids. The veins at his temples throbbed in rhythm with his ragged breathing.Avery watched him from the side. Her palms still felt the cold sweat that had seeped from his skin back at the pier. She was a psychiatrist; she knew all too well the internal collapse a man obsessed with control experienced when his world went dark.She could treat C-PTSD. She could anchor him through nightmares. But she couldn't fix his eyes."What are you thinking?" Dominic asked suddenly."Nothing." Avery looked away, her fingers interlacing instinctively."Your breathing is off." He remained leaned back, eyes shut. "Don't lie to me, Avery."Avery bit her lip and turned to face his profile. Even without sight, his pathological sensitivity was like an invisible web."I'm thinking about your eyes. Dominic, you can't play

The ophthalmology department of Sacred Heart Hospital was on the seventh floor.Pale gray carpets muffled footsteps. Abstract paintings lined the walls, likely meant to ease anxiety.The disinfectant scent was faint, tempered by an artificial floral undertone. It was not harsh, but felt unnaturally forced. Avery disliked it. Too deliberate. A transparent effort to mask the building's identity as a hospital.Helen Vance's office was on the right. Avery knocked."Come in."Helen was younger than expected. Early forties, neat short hair. She glanced at Avery, then her gaze drifted to Dominic."Sit."Dominic sat. Avery stood beside him, one hand on the back of his chair."Remove your glasses."He hesitated, then obeyed. His eyes lay exposed under the harsh clinical light. The swelling in his left eye had faded, but his pupils were veiled by a hazy gray fog, dull and unfocused.Helen studied him briefly, offering no comment. She rose and walked to the examination equipment."Sit here."The

The study was thick with the scent of fir and ink. Dominic stood against the light from the floor to ceiling window. As Avery entered, he turned toward her."Adrian invited me to the North Port," he said."To discuss what?""Logistics quotas. His docks, my cargo." He paused. "He asked for a private meeting.""You can't go right now," Avery blurted out. "Your eyes haven't healed yet. Helen said you need rest.""I can see light, Avery," he interrupted. "Even if it's just outlines."Avery was stunned. She stepped closer, trying to look into his pupils. "Seeing outlines isn't the same as being healed. You're gambling with your sight."She reached up to remove his glasses, but he caught her wrist before she could touch them."I never gamble," Dominic said. He held her with lethal precision and lowered his head until his face was inches from hers. "He specifically requested your presence."The study fell into a heavy silence."Why is he so interested in me?" Avery asked softly."I'd like to

During breakfast, Dorothea kept her eyes fixed on the staircase.Avery sat across from her, mechanically stirring her oatmeal, her gaze never leaving her daughter for a single second.The word "lullaby" from Drake the previous night felt like a thin wire tightened around her throat. The moment Dorothea left her sight, the wire would snap."Mommy," Dorothea called out.The spoon in Avery's hand jerked violently. "What is it, baby?""Where is the uncle?""He is unwell. He is resting upstairs."Avery pushed the glass of milk toward her, her movements stiff."Dorothea, finish your milk. Do not go to the garden to paint today."Dorothea did not move. She looked at the strawberry on her fork, then back at the stairs. "Where does he feel unwell?""His shoulder. He was... accidentally injured yesterday."Dorothea lowered her head. She picked the reddest strawberry and placed it on a small white porcelain plate, the