Chapter 55 Chapter 55

Chapter 55 Chapter 55
DOMINIC'S POV

Seven years.

Seven years, three months, and twelve days. I had counted every single one. Every hour. Every minute. Every second that passed without him in my life. I had memorized the exact date he left. The exact time his plane took off. The exact moment I realized he was gone and I had lost him forever.

I had replayed that moment in my mind a thousand times. The rain. The balcony. The way he had looked at me with those broken eyes. The way he had kissed me like it was the last time. The way he had said he hated me for making him love me. I had replayed it so many times that I had worn a groove in my memory. I could not escape it. I did not want to escape it.

I had planned this moment for years. Every detail. Every word. Every movement. I knew exactly how I would trap him again. How I would force him back into my world. How I would make him stay. The plan had been in motion for months. The warehouse. The men. The surveillance. Everything was ready. Everything was waiting for this exact moment.

And now he was here.

He was sitting on my lap. His body was tense. His jaw was tight. His eyes were burning with that familiar fire. The fire I had missed. The fire I had craved. The fire I had dreamed about every single night for seven years.

I had dreamed about him so many times. His face. His voice. The way he said my name. I would wake up in the middle of the night, reaching for him, and find nothing but empty sheets. Seven years of empty sheets. Seven years of cold beds. Seven years of trying to fill the void with work and money and meaningless contracts.

Nothing had worked. Nothing ever would.

My Cassian.

My sunshine.

He had not changed. Still beautiful. Still fierce. Still fighting me with everything he had. But I knew him. I knew every weakness. Every fear. Every crack in his armor. I had studied him for years. I had watched him from a distance. I had collected every piece of information I could find. I knew the way his breathing changed when he was scared. The way his hands shook when he was angry. The way his voice cracked when he was about to cry.

And I knew exactly how to break him.

"Your brother," I said. My voice was low. Smooth. Controlled. "Marcus. He is safe. For now."

Cassian's body went rigid. His hands gripped my shoulders. His knuckles were white. I could feel his pulse racing through the thin fabric of his shirt. Fast. Erratic. Scared. I felt the tremor in his fingers. The way his whole body was coiled like a spring about to snap.

"What did you do to him?" His voice was shaking. Angry. Desperate. The sound went straight through me. I had heard that voice in my dreams. I had replayed it over and over in my mind. And now it was real. Now he was here.

I reached up. Wrapped my fingers around his wrist. His skin was warm. Soft. Familiar. My thumb traced small circles on the inside of his wrist. Slow. Deliberate. I felt the softness of his skin. The warmth of his body. The way he flinched at my touch but did not pull away.

"Nothing. Yet." I leaned closer. My lips brushed against his ear. I felt him shiver. I felt his breath catch in his throat. I felt the way his body responded to mine even though he was fighting it with everything he had. "But that can change very quickly."

"Where is he?"

"Somewhere safe. Somewhere no one will find him. Not your father. Not the police. Not your private investigators. I made sure of that." I paused. Let the words sink in. "I have had him for three weeks, Cassian. Your father has been looking in the wrong places. Your investigators have been following false leads. I made sure of that too."

His eyes widened. His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

"You have been planning this for weeks?"

"Years." I breathed the word against his skin. "I have been planning this for years."

He tried to pull away. I held him tighter. My other hand slid up his back. Felt the tension in his shoulders. The heat of his skin through his shirt. The way his muscles coiled beneath my fingers like a spring about to snap. I could feel every ridge of his spine. Every knot of tension.

"Let me go," he said.

"No."

"Dominic."

"I like the way you say my name. Say it again."

"Fuck you."

I smiled. "That can be arranged."

He struggled again. I held him in place. My lips found his neck. Pressed against his pulse. Felt it racing beneath my mouth. I could taste his skin. Salt and warmth and something that was just him. Something I had been craving for seven years. I pressed my lips harder. Felt his pulse jump.

"Your brother is in a warehouse," I said against his skin. "About two hours from here. He has food. Water. A bed. He is comfortable. For now."

I paused. Let him absorb the words.

"I have people watching him. Twenty four hours a day. If anything goes wrong, if anyone tries to find him, if you try anything stupid, they have instructions. They will not hurt him. But they will move him. Somewhere else. Somewhere I will not even know."

Cassian went still. His whole body stopped moving. He stopped breathing. I felt the air leave his lungs. Felt the tension drain from his muscles. He was listening. He was desperate. He was mine.

"What do you want?" His voice was quiet. Broken. Defeated.

"I want you."

"What?"

I pulled back. Looked at him. His eyes were wide. His lips were parted. He looked terrified and furious and so beautiful it hurt. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to devour him. I wanted to keep him in a cage where no one else could ever touch him again.

"I want you, Cassian. I have always wanted you. I will always want you."

"This is insane."

"This is inevitable."

He stared at me. I stared back. The silence stretched between us. Heavy. Charged. Electric. I could feel his heart pounding against my chest. I could feel his breath on my face. I could feel the way his body was trembling against mine.

"You have a wife," he said finally.

"Yes."

"You are married."

"Yes."

"You have a wife and you are sitting here, threatening me, touching me, telling me you want me?"

I shrugged. "She does not matter."

"She does not matter? She is your wife."

"She is a piece of paper. Nothing more."

His eyes narrowed. "You expect me to believe that?"

"Believe what you want. It does not change anything."

"Everything you have ever said to me has been a lie. Every kiss. Every touch. Every I love you. It was all part of your plan."

His voice cracked on the last word. His eyes were wet. He was trying not to cry. His lower lip was trembling. His hands were shaking where they gripped my shoulders. I could feel the struggle inside him. The war between his anger and his pain.

I hated myself for that. For making him cry. For hurting him. For everything I had done. But I could not stop. I would not stop. Not now. Not when I was so close to having him back.

"I want you to sleep with me for three months," I said.

He froze. "What?"

"Three months. You stay with me. You share my bed. You do everything I say. And when the three months are over, I will release your brother."

"You are insane."

"Probably."

"You cannot be serious."

"I am completely serious."

"I will not do it."

"Then your brother will not come back."

The words hung in the air between us. Heavy. Final. I watched his face crumble. Watched the hope drain out of his eyes. Watched the fight leave his body. I watched him break. It was beautiful and terrible and everything I had ever wanted.

He hit me.

His fist connected with my jaw. The pain was sharp. Familiar. I had expected it. I had been waiting for it. I let him hit me. I let him climb off my lap. I let him stand there, breathing hard, his chest heaving, his eyes wild.

"What the fuck do you want from me?" he yelled.

I stood up. Walked toward him. He backed away. His back hit the wall. I trapped him. My arms on either side of his head. My body pressed against his. My face inches from his.

"I want you," I said. "I have always wanted you. I will always want you. That is what I want."

"You have a wife."

"I told you. She does not matter."

"You married her. You chose her. You put a ring on her finger."

"It does not matter."

"You kissed her."

"So?"

"So you have no loyalty? No decency?"

I laughed. The sound was hollow. "Loyalty? Decency?" I leaned closer. My lips brushed his. "You destroyed those things in me years ago."

"I destroyed nothing. You were always broken."

"Maybe. But you made it worse."

I kissed him. I had been waiting for this moment. For seven years, I had been waiting to feel his lips on mine again. To taste him. To touch him. To feel him struggle against me.

His hands pushed against my chest. I did not move. His teeth bit my lip. Hard. I tasted blood. Copper and salt. I did not pull away. I kissed him harder. Deeper. My hand fisted in his hair. My body pressed him against the wall.

He bit me again. I felt the blood drip down my chin. I felt the sting. I did not care. I kissed him through the pain. Through the blood. Through the anger and the hate and the years of separation.

When I finally pulled back, his eyes were wild. His lips were red with my blood. His chest was heaving. He looked like a wild animal. He looked like mine.

I smiled.

"Welcome back to my world again, baby."