Chapter 10 Chapter 10
Chapter 10 Chapter 10
Dominic’s POV
The alarm went off at 5:30 a.m.
I stared at the ceiling for a full five seconds, listening to it ring like I had no idea why it was even set in the first place. Then it hit me, slow and annoying.
Practice.
I groaned under my breath and dragged a hand over my face before reaching for my phone and shutting it off. For a second, I considered going back to sleep. Nothing was forcing me to be there. Not really.
Then her face flashed in my head.
“I said I would.”
I clicked my tongue.
Stubborn.
I pushed myself out of bed.
The house was quiet, like always. Too quiet for a place this big. My footsteps echoed faintly as I made my way downstairs, grabbing a bottle of water from the kitchen without bothering to turn on the lights.
“Good morning, sir.”
I barely glanced at the maid. “Yeah.”
“You’re up early today.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
She smiled politely like they all did and stepped aside as I walked past.
The air outside was cooler than I expected. Sharp enough to wake me up a little as I stepped onto the driveway. My car sat where it always did, untouched, polished like it mattered more than half the people in this house.
I got in, started the engine, and drove out without another thought.
\---
The field was almost empty when I got there.
Almost.
I spotted her immediately.
Of course I did.
Aria stood near the edge of the field, her bag resting against the bench, her arms wrapped slightly around herself like she was trying to keep the morning chill out. Her hair was tied back, a few loose strands catching the light breeze.
She looked… normal.
Like this wasn’t a big deal.
Like yesterday didn’t happen.
That irritated me.
I stepped out of the car and shut the door harder than necessary.
Her head turned at the sound.
Our eyes met.
No surprise on her face.
No hesitation.
Just a small, almost unreadable expression.
“You came,” she said.
I walked toward her slowly. “Don’t sound so shocked.”
“I’m not,” she replied. “You’re the one who told me to be careful. I assumed you’d want to see if I listened.”
I stopped a few feet in front of her.
“I didn’t come for you.”
“Of course you didn’t.”
Her tone was calm.
Too calm.
“You’re early,” I said.
“So are you.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“It does,” she replied. “I came when I was supposed to.”
I scoffed lightly. “You really think showing up early makes a difference?”
“No,” she said. “But it makes a statement.”
I tilted my head slightly. “And what statement is that?”
“That I’m not here to play games.”
A small smirk pulled at my lips. “That’s funny. Because from where I’m standing, this whole thing looks like a game.”
“Then you’re not looking properly.”
Before I could respond, a voice cut through the air.
“Well, well.”
We both turned.
Lana.
Of course.
She walked toward us with that same controlled confidence, her ponytail swaying slightly with each step, her expression already set in place.
Sharp.
Unimpressed.
Waiting.
“You actually showed up,” she said, her eyes fixed on Aria.
“I said I would,” Aria replied.
Lana’s gaze flicked to me briefly. “And you too.”
“I was bored,” I said.
“Sure you were.”
Her attention snapped back to Aria.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” she said, stopping a few steps away. “Yesterday doesn’t mean anything.”
“I didn’t say it did.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Aria didn’t flinch.
Didn’t step back.
Didn’t do anything Lana expected her to.
Interesting.
“This isn’t about one performance,” Lana continued. “This is about consistency. Discipline. Presence.”
“I understand.”
“No,” Lana said sharply. “You don’t. Not yet.”
Aria’s expression didn’t change. “Then teach me.”
That made Lana pause.
Just for a second.
Then she smiled.
Not nicely.
“Careful what you ask for,” she said.
“I’m not afraid of work.”
“You should be,” Lana replied. “Because I don’t go easy on people.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
Silence stretched between them.
Tense.
Charged.
I leaned slightly against the bench, crossing my arms as I watched.
This was better than I expected.
“Fine,” Lana said finally. “We start now.”
She clapped her hands once, sharp and loud.
“Warm up.”
Aria hesitated.
“Do I—”
“Don’t ask questions,” Lana cut in. “Follow.”
Aria nodded once.
Lana started moving immediately, going through stretches like this was routine, like she’d done it a thousand times.
Aria followed.
Not perfectly.
Not smoothly.
But she followed.
I watched closely.
Every movement.
Every adjustment.
Every slight delay.
She was out of place.
That was obvious.
Her body didn’t move like Lana’s. Didn’t have the same fluidity, the same ease.
But she wasn’t giving up.
That part was… annoying.
“Faster,” Lana snapped.
Aria adjusted.
“Keep up.”
She tried.
“You’re too stiff.”
“I’m working on it.”
“Work faster.”
I let out a quiet breath through my nose.
This was going to be interesting.
After a few minutes, Lana stopped abruptly.
Aria nearly missed the cue but caught herself just in time.
“Again,” Lana said.
“Already?” Aria asked.
“Did I stutter?”
Aria shook her head. “No.”
“Then move.”
She did.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Time passed without me noticing.
The sun climbed higher, the air warming slightly, but neither of them slowed down.
Lana pushed.
Aria followed.
Not perfectly.
Never perfectly.
But she kept going.
“You’re dragging,” Lana said.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’ll fix it.”
“You better.”
Aria’s breathing got heavier, but she didn’t stop.
Didn’t complain.
Didn’t walk away.
I straightened slightly, my arms dropping from where they were crossed.
Most people would’ve quit by now.
Most people would’ve made an excuse.
She didn’t.
“Break,” Lana said suddenly.
Aria exhaled, stepping back slightly, her hands resting on her knees as she caught her breath.
Sweat clung lightly to her skin, her chest rising and falling faster than before.
But she was still standing.
Still here.
Lana watched her closely.
“You’re slower than the others,” she said.
“I know.”
“You lack flexibility.”
“I know.”
“You’re not trained.”
“I know.”
Lana tilted her head slightly. “Then why are you here?”
Aria straightened slowly, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand.
“Because I said I would be.”
That again.
That same answer.
Simple.
Stubborn.
I pushed myself off the bench and walked closer before I could stop myself.
“You’re wasting your time,” I said.
Both of them looked at me.
“I’m not talking to you,” Lana snapped.
“I’m not talking to you either,” I replied, my eyes on Aria. “She’s not built for this.”
Aria’s gaze met mine immediately. “You don’t get to decide that.”
“I’m stating facts.”
“You’re stating opinions.”
“Same thing.”
“Not even close.”
Lana looked between us, something flickering in her expression.
“Good,” she said suddenly.
We both looked at her.
“I like this,” she continued. “A little tension makes things more interesting.”
“This isn’t entertainment,” Aria said.
“It is for me.”
Of course it was.
“Again,” Lana ordered.
Aria moved immediately.
No hesitation.
I watched her for another few seconds before shaking my head slightly.
“She’s going to fall,” I muttered.
“Then she falls,” Lana replied. “And we move on.”
Something about that didn’t sit right with me.
But I didn’t say anything else.
Because this wasn’t my problem.
It shouldn’t be.
And yet, I didn’t leave.
I stayed.
Watching.
Waiting.
For her to mess up.
For her to prove me right.
But as the minutes stretched, as the repetitions continued, as the mistakes got smaller and the movements got tighter, something shifted.
Not big.
Not obvious.
But there.
She was impro
ving.
Slowly.
Annoyingly.
Real.
I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling quietly.
“Unbelievable,” I muttered.
“What is?” Lana asked.
I didn’t answer.
Because I didn’t have one.
Because I didn’t like what I was seeing.
Because I didn’t like that she wasn’t failing.
Because something about that made everything more complicated than it should have been.
And I had a feeling this was only going to get worse.