CHAPTER 108: BREAKING POINT

CHAPTER 108: BREAKING POINT
CHAPTER 108: BREAKING POINT

Oh my goodness. I can’t believe what is going on right now.

The words spiral in Aria’s mind, looping over themselves until they become a chant that hammers at her skull. She stands frozen, her wide eyes locked on the sight of Dominic, his entire focus turned toward the woman by his side.

“Okay, Vera baby, come on. Let me show you to your room,” Dominic says, his tone dripping with a familiarity that grates against every raw edge inside Aria.

Her stomach twists as she watches his hand slide with unhesitating ease against Vera’s waist—her impossibly slim, curvy waist that looks designed to tempt, to draw every gaze in the room. His palm settles there like it belongs, fingers curving in perfect possession as he steers her toward the grand staircase.

Disbelief, dread, and a rush of mortification coil around Aria’s throat like a tightening cord, squeezing until every breath feels stolen. She stares, rooted to the marble floor, her lungs struggling to expand. Her mind screams that this cannot be happening, yet the sight before her is undeniable.

Dominic leans down, saying something low into Vera’s ear. Whatever it is, it makes her laugh, the sound light and unguarded as her head tips back. The motion exposes the elegant line of her throat, her glossy hair spilling like silk. Dominic’s hand stays firm against her hip, steadying her as though she is his to guide, his to hold.

Aria can’t tear her eyes away from that hand. From the way it rests against the swell of Vera’s hip with easy intimacy. Her gaze drifts lower, unwilling yet compelled, to the curve of Vera’s ass. The sight makes her breath stutter. It’s impossible not to notice—impossible not to compare.

Damn. That woman has a magnificent ass. Full, high, and shaped so perfectly it seems almost indecent. The tailored trousers cling to every contour, the fabric stretched so tightly it could have been painted on. The thin material reveals each line, each shift of muscle beneath, so precise it’s as if she isn’t wearing anything at all.

Good lord. No man alive could resist that. And Dominic—Dominic calls her his girlfriend.

A sharp bite cuts into Aria’s lower lip, hard enough to sting. She grinds her teeth together, fury and disbelief tangling into something uncontainable. Hell no. Her heart slams against her ribs, wild and frantic. Why does this hurt so much? It shouldn’t. It’s not supposed to cut this deep. Yet it does, leaving her raw, leaving her hollow.

She shakes her head violently, jaw clenching, the motion a desperate attempt to shake herself free of the feeling. She bites down again on her lip until it aches, refusing to let the tremor in her chest break through.

Still, her legs move. She follows them.

Her steps echo down the corridor as she trails them from a distance, her eyes glued to the sight of Dominic’s hand on Vera’s waist, his head bent close to hers, his body angled toward her in a way that feels exclusive, private. Each gesture between them twists like a knife, each laugh, each murmur deepening the cut.

They pass her room without pause, their footsteps carrying them toward the guest wing. Toward his room.

Good heavens.

Dominic chuckles softly, the sound almost intimate, and it vibrates against Aria’s chest like an unwelcome touch. He opens the door smoothly, one hand still guiding Vera, ushering her into the space that was his own. Then the door closes, shutting them away with a decisive click that reverberates like a slammed gate.

Aria stands there, motionless, staring at the closed door, her body tight, her fists clenched. The air seems to thin around her, her throat closing as if unseen hands are reaching inside, clawing, tugging at her lungs, her throat, her heart, trying to rip them out one by one.

Hell no.

The thought is the only anchor she has left.

She doesn’t know how long she stands there, rooted in place, her body humming with tension. Seconds stretch into minutes, or maybe it’s hours—time has lost all meaning. Her face twists, her brows pulled tight into a furious scowl, her teeth digging mercilessly into her lip until the taste of iron threatens.

Anger simmers hot in her chest, spreading outward, flooding her veins. She shakes her head, inhales deeply, exhales in sharp bursts, trying to steady herself, to claw back some measure of control. But calm refuses to come. It slips through her fingers no matter how tightly she tries to grip it.

“How the hell…” she mutters under her breath, her voice breaking, raw. She scoffs sharply, the sound bitter, then shakes her head again.

Finally, she turns, retreating toward her own room, her body trembling with the force of emotion. She stops at the doorway, her hand pressed against the frame, but she can’t bring herself to go inside. The weight pressing down on her chest makes it impossible to move. Her thoughts crash like waves, violent and unrelenting, each one hammering the truth deeper.

This pain is unbearable. Constricting. Like something tearing through the very walls of her heart.

Grinding her teeth hard, she shakes her head again, fiercer this time. No. She won’t make this easy for him. She won’t let him rewrite the rules of her life. If Dominic thinks she’s going to accept this, he’s mistaken.

She pulls her phone from her pocket in one sharp motion, her hand shaking with urgency. Her thumb flies across the screen, dialing without hesitation. The line connects almost instantly.

“Hello, baby. How are you? How was your day?”

Her father’s voice comes through, warm, casual, tender in a way that pierces her already bruised chest. His tone is the sound of a man who loves his daughter deeply, who holds her at the center of his world.

But Aria doesn’t hesitate. She can’t. Her voice bursts out before she can filter it, trembling, ragged. “We have a very big problem, Dad.”

Her tone gives her away. It trembles too much, cracks in places she can’t hide.

On the other end of the line, Vincenzo’s warmth evaporates instantly. His voice sharpens, alarm cutting in. “Yes. What is it? What’s wrong? Did someone hurt you? What happened? Did you encounter the Castellanos?” His words tumble over each other, fast, sharp, urgent. He’s panicking, fearing the worst, fearing that the threats against her life have found their way into his home.

Her chest squeezes, guilt washing through her in an unexpected rush. She hadn’t meant to set off this kind of fear, hadn’t wanted to spark that specific terror in him. She takes a deep breath, steadying herself, forcing her voice softer. “No, no, Dad, it’s not like that. It’s actually something else.”

He exhales heavily on the other end, the sound of a man temporarily eased but still on guard. “Okay. What is it?”

Aria swallows hard, her hand tightening around the phone. “I think Dominic has just violated one of your rules,” she says finally, her voice flat but simmering with anger.

Her father chuckles softly, a sound of disbelief, almost amusement. “Really? Why would Dominic go out of his way to violate any of my rules? He has never done that before.”

“Yes, he has,” Aria cuts in instantly, her voice sharp, refusing to let him finish. “Oh, yes, he has.”

Her father goes quiet for a beat, then she asks slowly, “What was the job you gave him concerning me?”

Vincenzo sighs, the sound of a man weary with the burdens of responsibility. “His job is to monitor you and be your personal bodyguard, to watch over you because of the ongoing threat laid on your head.”

Aria breathes in, steadying herself, then lets the words spill, fast, hot, unrelenting. “Well, I think he’s violating it right now, because I was just here at home when he brought someone else—another female bodyguard. And I’m sure she is not one of your guards. He said she was going to replace him since he’s going to be busy with other s
tuff.”

The words drip with her fury, her frustration filling every syllable.