Don't dare to touch me

Sophia’s POV:

I walked into the house, and the silence hit me like a wall. It was deafening, almost suffocating. I stopped for a moment at the door, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me. My chest felt tight, and I couldn’t bring myself to glance toward the room. I knew Dominic was there, but I had no desire to see him. Not tonight. Not after everything. 

Instead, I headed to the lounge, my feet moving on their own. The darkness of the room didn’t bother me; in fact, it felt like a welcome companion. Without even thinking of turning on the light, I slumped onto the one-seater sofa, trying to drown in the quiet. 

But the moment I sank into the cushion, I felt it—or rather someone. My heart jumped in my chest. Someone was there. 

I shot up in shock, only for arms to wrap around me, holding me in place. 

"You?" I breathed, the familiar scent wrapping around me before his voice did. 

"Where were you?" Dominic’s voice was serious, calm, but it carried an edge that made me freeze. His head rested lightly on my shoulder, and I could feel the heat of his breath on my neck. It sent shivers down my spine, but I quickly shoved the sensation aside. 

"Why?" I asked, masking my emotions with sarcasm. "Did Dominic Damien miss me?" I tried to pull away, but his hold tightened. His grip wasn’t rough, but it was firm—unyielding. 

"Answer my question, Sophia," he said, his tone sharper now. 

"Why? Are you already bored with Ria?" I shot back, my words laced with bitterness.  I felt him stiffen. His silence was heavier than his grip, but then he spoke, his voice low and serious. "We had a deal." 

"Exactly," I snapped, pulling every ounce of strength to keep my voice steady. "And according to that deal, you have no right to question me." 

For a second, I thought he might let it go, but then he abruptly released me. The force of his frustration was palpable as he reached over and flicked on the lamp. The sudden light revealed the storm brewing in his eyes. 

"Right now," he said, his voice low and deliberate, "get out of my sight before I do something I’ll regret for the rest of my life." 

His words stung more than I expected. I swallowed hard, refusing to let the humiliation show. Instead of apologizing or even explaining myself, I stood, my movements calm, and turned toward the stairs. I didn’t owe him anything. 

I could feel his gaze burning into my back as I walked away, but I didn’t look back. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. 

When I entered my room, I slammed the door shut. My anger blinded me, and I didn’t notice the shards of glass scattered across the floor until it was too late. The sharp sting of something piercing my foot made me cry out in pain. 

The sound of my scream shattered the silence, and before I could even process what was happening, I heard heavy footsteps racing up the stairs. 

"What happened?" Dominic’s voice was frantic as he burst into the room, his eyes searching for me.  I was on the floor, clutching my foot as blood seeped between my fingers.

"Ah..." I whimpered, the pain making my voice weak.  Without a word, Dominic crossed the room and scooped me into his arms as if I weighed nothing. 

"What are you doing? Put me down!" I protested, my face heating with embarrassment, but he ignored me completely.  He carried me to the bed and gently laid me down. His face was unreadable as he disappeared for a moment, returning with a first aid kit. 

"I’ll do it myself," I said quickly, sitting up and trying to take the kit from him. "I don’t need your help."  He didn’t even acknowledge my words. Instead, he knelt down, pulled my foot onto his thigh, and started removing the shards of glass. 

The first piece came out slowly, and even though he was careful, I couldn’t stop the gasp of pain that escaped my lips.

"Is my presence so unbearable that you had to break something?" I muttered bitterly, my words more to myself than him.  He didn’t react, his silence infuriating me even more. How could he just sit there, acting like he hadn’t invited Ria into our home? Like he hadn’t humiliated me? 

My anger simmered beneath the surface, but I bit my tongue. There was no point in another fight—not now.  Dominic stayed quiet as he finished removing the glass and began wrapping a bandage around my foot. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and for a brief moment, I let myself wonder why. But then the anger came flooding back. 

After Dominic finished dressing, he called the maid to clean the room. I stayed silent, watching as she worked quickly, her presence a temporary distraction from the tension lingering in the air. But the moment she left, Dominic closed the door, and the silence pressed down on me again. 

I frowned, glancing down at the white maxi I was still wearing. The fabric clung to me in a way that made me feel exposed and uncomfortable. “How am I supposed to change my clothes now?” I mumbled, frustration creeping into my voice. 

“I’ll handle it,” Dominic said, his tone serious as he walked toward me with that unshakable confidence that made me feel small.  My instincts kicked in, and I glared at him, straightening my back.

“Dominic Damien, don’t even think about touching me,” I warned, my voice sharp. 

He stopped for a moment, raising an eyebrow as if amused by my defiance. That smug look made my blood boil. But then, without a word, he started moving closer, and my heart sank. 

“Don’t touch me!” I shouted again, louder this time, but it was like he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—hear me. 

I pressed myself back against the headboard, gripping it tightly, my chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. He wasn’t stopping. The air around us felt heavy, almost suffocating, as his presence loomed closer. 

Then his hand reached out, gently tangling in my hair. I froze, every nerve in my body on edge. His breath was warm against my face, and the intensity of his gaze sent shivers down my spine. 

Why couldn’t I move? Why couldn’t I push him away? 

His hand slid behind my neck, and in one swift motion, he pulled me closer to him. I could feel the heat of his skin, the way his breathing matched mine. His lips hovered just inches from mine, close enough to make my heart race wildly. 

I couldn’t help it—my eyes fluttered shut, a part of me caught in this strange, overwhelming spell. 

But then, his voice broke through the moment, cold and mocking. 

“How amusing,” he murmured, his breath brushing my ear. His tone was cruel, laced with arrogant amusement. “With a body like yours, did you really think I wanted to touch you? Wake up, Sophia. Stop dreaming.”  My eyes snapped open, the humiliation hitting me like a slap. My cheeks burned as I stared at him, his smirk only fueling my anger. 

He straightened, clearly pleased with himself, and walked out of the room without a second glance. 

“Arrogant jerk,” I hissed under my breath, my fists clenching so tightly my nails dug into my palms. 

But as my anger burned, I realized it wasn’t just directed at him—it was at myself. How could I have let this happen? How could I have allowed myself to crumble so easily under his gaze? 

If I hadn’t presented myself like this in front of him, maybe I wouldn’t have lost every shred of dignity in his eyes. Tears pricked my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I wouldn’t cry over him. I wouldn’t cry over someone who clearly didn’t value me. 

I wiped my tears away, steeling myself. I wouldn’t let him see me break, not again. 

Just then, the maid walked back into the room, breaking my thoughts. 

“Ma’am,” she said hesitantly, “the boss sent me to help you change your clothes.” 

I nodded stiffly, my voice calm but cold. “Fine. Let’s get it over with.” 

As she worked, I stayed quiet, my resolve hardening with every second. No more tears. No more humiliation. Dominic Damien might think he’d won this time, but he was wrong. I would find a way to regain my strength, and when I did, he wouldn’t have the power to break me again.