Chapter 22 : Dominic’s Confusion
Dominic’s POV:
I should not be thinking about Alina Hayes while sitting in a board meeting worth several hundred million dollars.
Unfortunately, that’s exactly what I’m doing.
“Dominic?”
I blink once and look up at the presentation screen.
Right.
Acquisitions.
Numbers.
Business.
Things I normally dominate without effort.
Across the table, one of the executives clears his throat awkwardly. “Should we move forward with the Singapore deal?”
Every eye in the room turns toward me.
I force my attention back to reality.
“Push the decision until next week,” I say evenly. “I want revised projections first.”
No one argues.
They never do.
The meeting continues, but my concentration is gone completely.
Because all I can see is Alina standing in that hotel suite yesterday, looking at me like she wanted to run and stay at the same time.
And that is becoming a serious problem.
“Sir?”
This time it’s my assistant, Daniel.
The conference room is nearly empty now.
Apparently the meeting ended while I was mentally ruining myself over a woman I absolutely should not want.
Fantastic.
“You have lunch with the investors in forty minutes,” Daniel reminds me carefully.
I loosen my tie slightly. “Reschedule it.”
He pauses. “You never reschedule investors.”
“I am today.”
Daniel wisely decides not to comment further.
Smart man.
The second he leaves the office, I lean back in my chair and close my eyes briefly.
This is getting out of control.
I’ve handled corporate wars.
Hostile takeovers.
Media scandals.
None of those things affected me like this.
But somehow one woman looking at me across a ballroom is enough to destroy my ability to think rationally.
Worse?
I don’t even know when exactly it happened.
Maybe the elevator.
Maybe the night we spent together.
Maybe the moment she looked at me in shock after opening my penthouse door.
Or maybe it was gradual.
Slow.
Dangerous.
The kind of thing you don’t notice until you’re already drowning in it.
A knock interrupts my thoughts.
“Come in.”
Victor Vale walks into my office without waiting for permission.
Of course.
My father looks exactly the same as always.
Cold.
Perfectly composed.
Expensive.
Everything about him feels calculated.
“You’ve been difficult to reach lately,” he says calmly.
“I’ve been working.”
“You canceled lunch with the investors.”
I stare at him flatly. “Do you monitor my schedule now?”
“When your decisions affect the company, yes.”
There it is.
The control.
Always disguised as business.
Victor sits across from me smoothly. “How are wedding preparations going?”
Immediately, tension settles heavily in my chest.
“Fine.”
“You don’t sound convincing.”
I say nothing.
My father studies me carefully for a moment before speaking again.
“Eleanor is useful for the company,” he says. “The merger benefits both families.”
Useful.
Not kind.
Not intelligent.
Not someone Dominic should love.
Just useful.
That alone tells me everything about how my father views relationships.
“They seem happy,” Victor continues. “Especially Eleanor.”
Something sharp twists unexpectedly in my chest.
Because Eleanor is happy.
And she genuinely believes I’m building a future with her.
The guilt should be stronger than this by now.
Instead, every time I think about ending things with Alina, my first reaction is frustration.
Not morality.
Frustration.
“You’re distracted,” my father says suddenly.
I meet his gaze evenly. “Meaning?”
“You haven’t been focused recently.”
The irony almost makes me laugh.
If only he knew why.
Victor’s eyes narrow slightly. “Don’t make emotional mistakes, Dominic.”
Too late.
I already have.
\---
Three hours later, I’m standing in my penthouse kitchen pouring whiskey I don’t actually want.
The city lights stretch beyond the windows, but tonight the view feels meaningless.
Because my thoughts keep returning to her.
Again.
Alina laughing quietly at her mother’s comments.
Alina getting jealous at the gala.
Alina looking nervous every time I move too close.
Christ.
I drag a hand through my hair roughly.
This obsession is becoming unhealthy.
My phone buzzes against the counter.
Daniel.
I almost ignore it before answering.
“What?”
“There’s a problem downstairs.”
I frown slightly. “What kind of problem?”
“A journalist managed to enter the building lobby. Security removed him, but apparently he was asking questions about your engagement.”
Annoyance settles immediately in my chest.
“What questions?”
“A possible delay in the wedding.”
My expression hardens instantly.
“Who leaked that?”
“We’re still investigating.”
I end the call shortly after.
Then I stand there silently for several seconds.
Because suddenly another realization hits me.
This situation isn’t dangerous only emotionally anymore.
The media is already watching.
If anyone notices the tension between me and Alina...
No.
I shut the thought down immediately.
That cannot happen.
It would destroy Eleanor publicly.
Destroy Alina socially.
And somehow the thought of people attacking her makes something violent stir under my skin instantly.
Protectiveness.
Possessiveness.
Both equally dangerous.
Another buzz interrupts my thoughts.
This time it’s a text.
Alina.
My pulse reacts before I can stop it.
Pathetic.
I open the message immediately.
Mom wants to know if you’re free for dinner Sunday.
I stare at the screen longer than necessary.
No greeting.
No unnecessary conversation.
Careful.
Deliberately careful.
Like she’s trying to rebuild distance between us.
The realization irritates me unexpectedly.
I type back before overthinking it.
Are you asking me or is she?
Three dots appear.
Disappear.
Return again.
Finally:
Dominic.
A warning.
Short.
Simple.
And somehow intimate anyway.
I lean back against the counter slowly.
Then type:
Tell your mother I’ll be there.
A pause.
Then another message appears.
Okay.
That should be the end of the conversation.
Instead, I stare at the screen waiting for another text anyway.
Nothing comes.
I should let it go.
Instead:
You’ve been quiet today.
This time her response takes longer.
I’ve been trying to think clearly.
Something about that answer immediately tightens my chest.
Because I know exactly what she means.
Distance.
Logic.
Control.
Things neither of us seems capable of maintaining around each other anymore.
I type carefully now.
And is it working?
The typing bubble appears almost instantly this time.
Stops.
Starts again.
Then finally:
Not really.
The honesty in that message affects me more than it should.
Too much.
I exhale slowly while staring down at the screen.
Then before common sense can interfere, I type the one thing I’ve been trying not to admit to myself all week.
Good. Because I can’t stop thinking about you either.
Silence follows immediately.
Long enough that I almost regret sending it.
Almost.
Then finally her reply appears.
This is getting dangerous.
I stare at those words carefully.
Because she’s right.
It is dangerous now.
Not attraction anymore.
Not temptation.
Something deeper.
Something that’s beginning to affect every decision I make.
And worst of all?
I still don’t want to stop.
I type slowly.
Tell me to walk away and I will.
The message sits there after sending.
Heavy.
Real.
Because despite everything, I would leave her alone if she truly asked me to.
Minutes pass.
One.
Two.
Five.
No response.
Then finally:
I think that’s the problem.
My heartbeat slows strangely.
Because I understand exactly what she means.
Neither of us wants this to end.
And that realization should terrify me more than it does.
Instead, all I can think about is seeing her again Sunday.
Hearing her voice.
Watching her react every time I move too close.
God.
I close my eyes briefly.
This is bad.
Very bad.
Because somewhere along the way, Alina Hayes stopped being a mistake I regretted.
And became the only thing I seem capable of wanting.