CHAPTER 59
Ethan’s POV
Life with Dominic had become a kind of dream I never thought I’d get to live.
Our days were unhurried, filled with the quiet luxury of simple pleasures that felt decadent only because they were ours. Mornings started with sunlight spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Dominic’s warm body curled around mine, and the smell of rich coffee drifting in from the kitchen. Sometimes, we stayed in bed for hours, talking about nothing and everything until the world outside seemed irrelevant.
Other mornings, he would pull me into his lap and kiss me until laughter turned into something deeper, something that left us breathless and tangled in sheets.
The penthouse had become a sanctuary. We filled it with memories of our travels, photographs of sunlit beaches in Greece, a woven throw from Iceland, a handful of seashells displayed in a crystal bowl. It felt alive now, a far cry from the cold, pristine place it had once been when Dominic’s empire ruled his life.
At night, he would light candles, order food from our favorite restaurants, and pour wine while jazz played softly in the background.
We’d sit on the balcony, wrapped in a blanket, and watch the city lights flicker like a sea of stars. Sometimes we barely spoke at all, content just to exist together in that quiet space.
It was everything I’d ever wanted.
And yet, somewhere in that perfect stillness, I began to notice… cracks.
It started small. A shift in his tone during a phone call he took behind a closed door. A strange look in his eyes that vanished the moment he saw me watching. A restless energy in the way he paced the room when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.
At first, I told myself I was imagining it. Old habits. Old fears. After everything we’d been through, it was natural to expect danger lurking around every corner.
But the signs kept coming.
One evening, I was curled up on the couch reading when Dominic’s phone buzzed on the table. He was in the shower, so I picked it up without thinking. The screen lit up with a number I didn’t recognize, no name attached. The message preview was short, just a single word: “Update.”
A chill ran through me.
Before I could decide what to do, Dominic appeared, towel slung low around his hips, water still dripping from his hair. His eyes landed on the phone in my hand, and for the briefest second, something sharp flickered across his face.
“Who was that?” I asked, my voice casual even as my pulse raced.
He crossed the room and took the phone from me with a practiced ease. “No one important,” he said smoothly, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Just a wrong number.”
It was believable enough except for the way his shoulders stayed tense even after he’d turned away.
I let it go. Or at least, I tried to.
One night, we were getting ready for dinner when I caught him staring at himself in the mirror, his jaw clenched, his expression distant.
“Dom?” I asked softly.
He blinked and immediately smoothed his features into something warm and familiar. “Hmm?”
“You looked… upset.”
His smile was quick, practiced. “Just thinking about whether we should order dessert tonight or not.”
It was such a blatant deflection that I almost laughed, but the unease in my chest kept me quiet.
We went to dinner, and Dominic was perfect, attentive, loving, his hand always resting on mine. To anyone watching, we must have looked like the ideal couple, perfectly in sync. And for a while, I let myself believe it again.
But later that night, when I woke to find the bed empty, I padded quietly down the hall and found him standing by the window, phone pressed to his ear. His voice was low, urgent.
“No,” he said sharply. “That’s not good enough. Handle it.”
He turned then, and I froze in the doorway. For an instant, raw anger twisted his face, a flash so intense it didn’t seem like him at all.
Then, just as quickly, it was gone.
“Ethan,” he said, his tone perfectly even. “Couldn’t sleep?”
I forced a smile. “I noticed you weren’t in bed.”
He crossed to me and cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing my skin. “Just a quick call. Nothing important.”
“Everything okay?”
“Of course,” he said smoothly, and kissed me before I could press further.
I told myself to trust him. He had never given me a reason not to, Dominic loved me with a fierceness that left no room for doubt. I felt it in every touch, every word, every promise he’d kept.
And yet…
The next day, while he was out, I walked through the penthouse with a restlessness I couldn’t shake. The walls felt too quiet, the rooms too still.
I paused in his office, staring at the closed laptop on the desk. My fingers itched to open it, to find answers, but I couldn’t bring myself to cross that line.
Instead, I sat in his chair and tried to breathe through the anxiety gnawing at me.
When Dominic came home later, he was carrying flowers and a bottle of the wine we’d discovered in France. His smile was bright, his eyes warm, and for a moment, I almost convinced myself that everything was fine.
He pulled me into his arms, pressing his face into my neck. “I missed you today,” he murmured, his breath warm against my skin.
“I missed you too,” I whispered, holding him tightly.
The rhythm of his breathing was steady, his arm heavy across my waist, but my mind wouldn’t quiet. I kept replaying the look I’d seen on his face during that phone call, the anger, the sharpness, the edge I didn’t recognize.
I turned toward Dominic, studying his face in the dim light. Even in sleep, he looked powerful, untouchable. His hand twitched slightly, as though even in dreams, he was holding on to something I couldn’t see.
I reached out and laced my fingers through his, needing the contact, needing to remind myself of what was real.
“I love you,” I whispered, so quietly I wasn’t sure if I’d spoken at all.