Chapter 105: FRACTURES AT THE DOOR
CHAPTER 105 – FRACTURES AT THE DOOR
Dominic slaps his palm against his forehead, the sound sharp in the silence of his room. “How many fucking times do I have to tell you,” he growls into the phone, “that it is none of your fucking business?”
The words have barely left his mouth when there’s a knock at the door. A small, delicate sound—three taps, hesitant but firm enough to make him freeze. His brows knit together, his whole body stiffening. He lowers the phone slightly and covers the microphone with his palm so that Vera won’t hear.
“Who is there?” His voice is clipped, impatient.
There’s a pause on the other side of the door, and then a voice answers—soft, unmistakable, threading into his bones like it belongs there.
“It’s me. Aria.”
The name registers with the force of a hammer blow, ricocheting through his chest. Dominic closes his eyes, jaw locking tight. What the fuck now? What the hell is she doing here? What does she want from me this time?
He swallows, pushing down the sudden surge of unease. “Um, just hold on for a few minutes. I’m coming,” he calls toward the door before lifting the phone back to his ear.
“Look, Vera,” he says, his voice dropping low, urgent, “this isn’t comfortable to keep discussing over the phone. Can we pick a location? Somewhere to meet. I’ve got pressing matters I need to deal with right now.”
Her chuckle cuts through, dry and biting. “Let me guess. Aria Moretti is calling for your attention right now, isn’t she?”
A groan escapes his throat, frustration spilling over. “Get out of my life!” he snaps, louder than he intended, the sound reverberating off the walls.
Vera bursts out laughing at the other end, delighted by his irritation, before the line goes dead. He doesn’t wait for her to say anything else—his thumb is already slamming the call off.
Dominic exhales heavily, rolling his shoulders back. His gaze flicks toward the door like it’s the threshold to some inevitable doom. What the hell is she doing here? What the hell could she possibly be looking for right now? He thought he had made it clear to her—no contact, no lingering, nothing. He doesn’t want to see her, doesn’t want to deal with her. Yet here she is, pressing her way into his already frayed existence, making everything harder than it already is. Why does she keep pushing? Why does she keep clawing into my life? What the fuck does she want?
He inhales, sharp and measured, then strides toward the door. His hand hesitates briefly on the knob, but then he turns it and pulls the door open.
Aria stands there, small and fragile against the frame. Her shoulders are slightly hunched, her hands clasped in front of her, as though trying to anchor herself in the moment. She keeps her gaze fixed downward, avoiding his eyes, but he can see the nervous tremor in her body. After a long pause, she lifts her head, and their eyes finally meet. There’s a nervous smile tugging at her lips.
“Hey,” she says softly. “Hi. Um, I just wanted to see you.”
His frown deepens, his expression hard. “There is nothing important for us to talk about, Aria. I’ve already told you what I want. So please, just go.”
He pushes the door to close it, but her hand flashes forward, pressing firmly against the edge.
“Wait.”
The door halts against her palm, and Dominic stares down at her, brow arched, patience thinning. “What is it?”
She lets out a shaky little laugh, nervous and unsure. “Um, nothing. I really don’t want anything much. I was just… hoping you’d calm down, listen to me, and accept my apology.”
He scoffs, the sound sharp, his eyes rolling skyward. “An apology? That’s what you want?”
She nods, lips pressing together, her gaze darting quickly to the ground again.
Dominic shakes his head, lips curling in derision. “Alright, fine. You’re forgiven. There you go, there you have it.” His tone is clipped, dismissive. He pushes at the door again, but once more, her hand blocks the way, insistent.
“Wait,” she says again, her voice firmer this time.
He groans, frustration vibrating in his chest. His glare sharpens into something threatening, designed to cut her down and drive her away.
“Um,” she stammers, shrinking a little under his stare, “I just—I also wanted to thank you for the novel.”
His eyes flicker with surprise, a small crack in his guarded mask. “You’ve already told me thank you. What exactly are you looking for, Aria?”
She bites her lower lip hard, chewing at the soft skin as though the pressure will steady her.
“Don’t tell me,” Dominic’s voice lowers, dangerous and edged, “that you’re still trying to come against me even after the warning I gave you. Are you trying to sign your death wish?”
Her eyes widen, lashes fluttering as she blinks rapidly. Her nerves betray her, the tension in her limbs visible, the fragile tremor of someone caught in the crosshairs.
And yet—something inside him shifts. Against his will, some deep and stubborn part of him stirs. Her nervousness claws into him, scraping against the armor he’s spent years building. Something about the vulnerability etched across her face calls to him, pulls at him, drags at his conscience.
Why the fuck am I feeling this? he thinks, rage tangling with confusion. Why do I care? Why do I want to take away her pain? Why does it matter to me if she looks nervous, or sad? I shouldn’t care. I don’t care. I can’t care.
But he does. And the truth of it terrifies him more than anything. It reminds him that he needs Vera’s help fast—that his plan cannot collapse, not now, not with Aria standing right here.
He clears his throat, glancing past her into the hallway before looking back. His voice comes out quieter this time, controlled. “I’m doing something important right now, Aria. Can we talk later?”
She hesitates, resisting, as though every part of her wants to protest, but then he sees it—the flicker of hope in her eyes. The kind of hope that clings to possibilities, however faint. She nods quickly, eager to hold onto it.
“Okay, sure,” she says. “Can we meet later in the evening?”
Dominic arches a brow at her, skeptical, but he knows he needs to get her to let go. He nods quickly, feigning ease. “Yeah. Sure. No problem.”
Her lips curve into a small, hopeful smile, and then he finally manages to close the door between them.
The moment it clicks shut, he leans back against it, his head tipping against the wood. His eyes close. Hell no. The words thunder through his mind like a vow.
He pulls his phone from his pocket, his fingers flying to Vera’s number. The line rings once before she answers, her voice smooth, smug.
“Have you come up with a place?” he asks without preamble.
There’s a pause, and then her laughter filters through. “Yeah. Let’s meet at the Ferradian Hotel. High Class, of course.”
Dominic nods to himself, already moving. “Great. I’ll see you there in the next few hours.”
He ends the call before she can say anything else and rushes toward his wardrobe, yanking the doors open. His hands move fast, pulling out clothes, already stripping away the layers of the moment, preparing himself for what comes next.