Chapter 20 SHOCK

Chapter 20 SHOCK
DOMINIC

I sign the last document in front of me and adjust my tie, then glance at my watch.

It's already five p.m.

“Make sure they reach their address tomorrow,” I tell Martins.

He straightens immediately. “Yes, boss.”

But he doesn’t leave. I don’t look up right away because I already know that look, the I-have-something-else-to-say hesitation.

“What is it now?” I ask finally.

“We have one week left before the big event, sir,” he says carefully. “We’ve never lost to any competitor before, but… I doubt we stand a chance this year.”

That gets my attention.

I lift my head slowly. “And who exactly says we’re losing this year?”

He frowns. “We don’t have our artist. And we barely have enough work that fits the theme we’re pushing.” He hesitates, then adds, “You also missed two chances to secure Miss Grace for the spot. We don’t have many options left.”

I stare at him hard enough for him to catch it. He does and instantly straightens like he’s been shocked.

“I—I’m sorry, sir,” he adds quickly. “I just meant we honestly need—”

“Martins.” My voice is calm, controlled but dangerous. “Can you remind me who the boss is?”

He blinks. “You are, sir.”

I nod once. “Good. Then start acting like you remember that.”

His jaw tightens, eyes dropping to the floor.

“You’ve been talking more than necessary lately,” I continue. “If you have this much time, then you clearly need more work.”

He swallows hard.

“Get Silas,” I say. “I want a full report on the progress he’s made so far.”

“Yes, sir,” he replies quickly.

The door closes behind him. Only then do I exhale, dragging a hand down my face.

I don’t know why I’ve been this on edge lately. Martins didn’t actually do anything wrong.

But the moment Grace’s name left his mouth, my focus shattered and my patience snapped completely

Just hearing her name is enough to mess with my head. And I hate that.

My phone chimes. I pick it up and glance at the screen.

Violet: Hey, it's Violet.

How the hell did she even get my number? Mum. I bet it’s her.

I don’t reply. I’m about to drop the phone when it vibrates again.

Violet: You up for dinner tonight?

I stare at the message for a moment before typing back.

Me: That would be nice, but I’m staying late at the office.

I wait. Then she text back.

Violet: Tomorrow?

I don’t respond. I refocus on my laptop, but before I can even pretend to concentrate, her call lights up my screen.

I sigh under my breath before answering. “Hello.”

“I’m sorry to bother you during work hours,” she says quickly. “You never used to mind, so I thought—”

“Why did you call, Violet?” I cut in.

She exhales softly. “You didn’t respond to my last text. And honestly, I wanted to go out with Grace. She’s cool. But after what happened, I couldn’t, so I thought maybe we could instead.”

My expression tightens. “Grace? What happened to her?”

She chuckles lightly. “Hey, it’s nothing serious. Well, it would’ve been if Nick hadn’t saved her from drowning. But she’s fine now, so back to what I was saying—”

“She drowned?” My voice rises sharply.

I don’t even realize I’m standing until my chair scrapes against the floor.

“No. I said almost,” Violet says quickly. “She’s fine, Dom. Can we just talk about us?”

Heat creeps under my skin as my pulse suddenly starts vibrating loud in my ears.

“Is she still at my mum’s place?” I ask.

There’s a brief pause. “I don’t know. Why are you suddenly so concerned about her?”

I scoff. “So I shouldn’t be?” My tone hardens. “She’s my brother’s girlfriend. That makes her family. And unlike you, I don’t treat family like something disposable.” I inhale sharply. “As for the date, I can’t make it. I'm sorry… Take care.”

I end the call before she can respond. Both my hands press against my desk as I stare at nothing.

I need to see Grace. Right now.

I grab my suit jacket from the coat stand, pick up my phone and car keys, and head straight for the door, only to nearly collide with Martins.

“I’m heading out,” I say briskly, already moving.

“Like right now?” he asks, scrambling to keep up.

“You heard me.”

“What about the report, sir? And the meetings?”

I stop in front of the elevator and turn to face him. “They can all wait until I’m back.” I pause. “Anything else?”

“Yes, sir. The CEO of Glamour Art Gallery tried to schedule a meeting. I need your approval to fix a time or cancel.”

My brow furrows. “Glamour?” I repeat. “Isn’t that the company we almost lost our artist to two years ago?”

“Yes, sir. And they’re competing again this year.”

I glance at my watch, then back at him.

I’m not thinking straight. What exactly am I planning to say to Grace if I go see her now? I don’t even have a solid excuse.

I let out a sharp breath. Going at night would be better.

I retreat from the elevator  and turn back toward my office. “Schedule the meeting,” I say. “Now.”

Martins blinks. “N-now?”

“Yes.”

“Oh—okay, boss.” He’s already pulling out his phone.

I head back inside, my jaw tight. Whatever Glamour wants, I’ll deal with it first.

Then I’ll go see Grace.


I keep checking my watch, irritation crawling under my skin. It’s almost seven.

I don’t usually care when competitors run late, but Glamour isn’t just any competitor. They’ve been coming after us for years persistently, relentlessly, never knowing when to back off.

I don’t know how my father handled them before he died. I never get to ask. Yeah, I wasn't expecting death to take him suddenly.

Now it’s my problem.

I heard they recently transferred ownership. Not that it matters. I’ve never cared who sits at the top of that company. only what they want.

I close the last file and set it aside just as there’s a knock on my door.

Martins walks in, stepping aside to reveal a young woman behind him.

She’s dressed simply. And immediately, I know she’s not who I was expecting.

“This is Beatrice from Glamour,” Martins says.

I lean back slightly, releasing a quiet breath. “Alright. You can leave us.”

Once the door shuts, I rise to my feet and walk toward her. She doesn’t move, or even fidget. She just stands there confidently.

I extend my hand. “Dominic Santos. It’s a pleasure.”

She smiles politely as she shakes it. “Beatrice. I’m the personal assistant to the owner.”

“I figured,” I say mildly.

We sit.

The meeting is brief, precise, and not too serious. Just her replaying the message from her boss. By the time an hour passes, we’ve agreed to schedule a follow-up meeting with her boss this time.

When she leaves, I glance down at my watch.

It's amost eight.

I drag a hand over my face, grab my phone, and head for the door. The elevator ride feels longer than usual. I’m just unlocking my car when my phone vibrates.

“God,” I mutter. “Who now?”

I check the screen.

Mum.

I answer immediately. “Hello.”

“I need you to drive down here now, Dominic.” she shouts.

I pull the phone away slightly, staring at it like it might explain her tone for her.

I’ve never heard her sound like that.

“What’s wrong?” I ask calmly, though something tightens in my chest.

“I’m very upset with you,” she says sharply. “For keeping the truth from me.”

Truth? What is she talking about?

“What truth?” I ask, my grip tightening around the phone. “Mum, I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Your son is in my house right now,” she snaps. “And you’re going to come here and explain to me how that’s even possible.”

My breath leaves me all at once.

“What?”