Chapter 7 - The Betrayal
The air in the study instantly turned to liquid ice.
Dominic sat up slowly, the blanket slipping down his waist. His posture turned rigidly straight, every muscle in his back locking like iron bands. The warmth that had filled his eyes during the night vanished, replaced by an abyss of dark, bottomless fury.
Uncle Vance was Dominic’s last living relative—his mother’s older brother, who held a senior advisory seat on the syndicate board. Vance had been the one who took nineteen-year-old Dominic into the organization after his mother's death.
"Are you certain?" Dominic asked, his voice deathly quiet.
"The bank receipts are signed with Vance’s personal biometric key, Boss," Marcus replied grimly. "He’s been secretly funding Moretti for six months, trying to create enough chaos to force the board to remove you."
"Where is he?"
"He's at his estate in Philadelphia. But Boss... his security detail just went dark. He knows we wiped out Moretti. He’s preparing to flee the country."
Dominic lowered the phone, his gaze fixed on the fireplace dying embers. He didn't shout. He didn't smash anything. His silence was far more terrifying than any display of rage.
I sat up, pulling the blanket around my chest, reaching out to touch his shoulder. "Dominic..."
The moment my fingers touched his skin, his body relaxed slightly, the cold tension melting just enough for him to turn his head toward me.
"Vance was the one who raised me after my mother died," Dominic said softly, his voice hollow. "He was the one who taught me the rule. 'Never let anyone touch you, Dominic. Touch is weakness. Touch is how they put a knife in your back.' And all these years... he was the one holding the knife."
My heart broke for him. His entire life—his isolation, his cold reputation, his absolute fear of human connection—had been engineered by the uncle who wanted to keep him controlled, paranoid, and lonely.
"He lied to you," I whispered, tears filling my eyes. "He kept you in the dark so he could use you."
Dominic looked at my hand resting on his arm. He reached over, wrapping his large fingers around mine, squeezing tightly.
"He thought isolating me would make me a weapon he could control," Dominic murmured, his grey eyes burning with an intense, deadly light. "He was wrong. Isolating me made me cold. But taking you... that gives me a reason to burn everything he built."
He stood up from the couch, pulling on a fresh black suit from the study closet. He checked the magazine of his heavy silver pistol, racked the slide with a sharp metallic click, and holstered it beneath his jacket.
"Dominic, please be careful," I pleaded, getting up and wrapping a silk robe around myself.
He walked over to me, cupping the back of my neck, pulling my face up to meet his. He pressed a hard, deep kiss onto my lips.
"Marcus will stay here with twenty men," Dominic instructed. "The house is on absolute lockdown. I will be back by afternoon."
"Promise me you'll come back," I demanded, holding his lapels.
May you like
"I have something to come home to now, Lily," he said softly. "Nothing on this earth will keep me from coming back to you."
He turned and strode out of the study, his boots echoing down the hallway like the drums of war.
