Chapter 7 - PLAYING WITH FIRE
By dawn, Blackthorne House had been transformed into an impenetrable military bunker. Dominic purged eighteen corrupt security guards within two hours, replacing the perimeter with his most loyal inner-circle enforcers.
The master bedroom on the second floor had been converted into our shared sanctuary. Dominic had refused to let me stay anywhere else.
I sat on the edge of the king-sized bed, wearing one of Dominic's oversized silk shirts. The estate doctor had re-stitched my torn incisions, but the real ache was the crushing guilt suffocating my chest.
The heavy mahogany door clicked open. Dominic walked in carrying a tray with warm broth and coffee. He had changed into a clean slate-gray shirt, though the bandage under his shoulder was clearly visible.
"Drink," he said gently, setting the tray down and sitting beside me.
"I brought this war to your doorstep, Dominic," I said, unable to meet his gaze. "Julian will burn this entire city to get to me. If I leave now, Caleb will be safe."
Dominic reached out, his strong fingers gripping my chin, forcing me to look up into his smoldering amber eyes.
"Listen to me carefully, Evelyn," he said, his voice thick with raw emotion. "My wife died four years ago in a targeted car crash because I was too weak to protect her. For four years, I built walls of ice around my heart and around Caleb. We were surviving, but we weren't living."
A single tear escaped my eye. Dominic’s thumb gently caught it, brushing it across my cheekbone.
"Then you walked into this house," Dominic continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You made my son laugh again. You brought warmth back into these cold, empty halls. And when death came for Caleb, you threw your life away without a second thought. You think I’m going to let you walk out into the cold alone?"
"Dominic... I'm a weapon. Everyone who touches me gets burned."
"Then let me burn," he growled softly.
Dominic leaned in, closing the distance between us. When his lips met mine, it wasn't hesitant—it was an intoxicating collision of hunger, desperation, and undeniable passion. His hands tangled in my hair, pulling me flush against his solid chest, while my hands gripped his shoulders, anchoring myself to the only man who had ever made me feel safe.
For a brief, suspended moment, the world stopped bleeding. The ghosts vanished. There was only the heat of Dominic’s breath and the fierce, protective beat of his heart.
He pulled back slowly, his forehead resting against mine, both of us breathing heavily.
"We fight him together," Dominic whispered against my lips. "We end this together."
Before I could answer, the security phone on the nightstand screamed with a high-priority tone. Dominic answered, putting it on speaker.
May you like
Marcus's frantic voice erupted from the speaker: "Boss! It’s Caleb! He was inside the panic room, but someone triggered the ventilation override with a master cipher from the old harbor grid! Caleb’s gone. Kane left a coordinates beacon at Pier 42."
***
