Chapter 118: Chapter 118
The restaurant was empty. Theresa scoffed.
That was always Dominic’s style. Je loved the silence, the shadows, and no witnesses. He loved the kind of silence that didn’t just fall, but pressed down like a weight on the lungs.
She was so stunned when she got his text an hour ago, attached with an address. There was no word, just an address but she knew Dominic more than he’d ever admit to her knowing.
She knew he missed her. When she came back, she knew it’d only be a matter of time before he request for her to be with him again.
They belong together, and this was the time.
Theresa stepped in with a smile, the click of her heels echoing in the hollow room. She wore her confidence like perfume. It was strong enough to sting the nose, and intoxicating if inhaled too deeply.
Her eyes flicked over the polished marble, the gold-detailed curtains, and the solitary table set at dead center. One table. Two chairs.
For them. One table, two chairs. For them. This meant something.
She slid into her seat with the elegance of someone who had rehearsed this moment in her head a thousand times. Her lips curled into a practiced smile as she crossed her legs.
Dominic sat opposite her. He hadn’t moved since she arrived. He had no menu laid before him, and he had no drink in his hand. He hadn’t ordered a thing.
The place was pin drop silent. That silence again. That brutal, suffocating silence she hated so much.
Years of unspoken words clung between them. The words were unspoken, yet as sharp as glass. Betrayal, regret, desire, blood, and desperation all hung around them.
Theresa was the first to break. She cleared her throat, took off her large dark glasses, and parted her red lips.
"A man like you can only be understood by me," she said softly, tilting her head like she was offering him a secret. "A woman who was born and raised in the underworld."
Dominic didn’t answer. He didn’t even lift his head. He looked at her from under his eyes, the shadows carving his face into something unreadable. His jaw worked once. Then again. He was visibly trying to swallow down his rage.
"You can’t expect," she continued, her voice smoothing out into honey, "a woman who lived a normal life to suddenly handle you."
Her words dangled in the air, deliberate, and heavy. She was beautiful but Dominic no longer recognised her.
She leaned forward, gauging his silence, and trying so hard to read him. He was impossible to read. He always had been. That was what made her both crave and despise him.
She decided to gamble.
"Let’s put this all behind us," Theresa whispered, stretching her hand across the table. Her fingers brushed over his knuckles, lingering like a question mark. "Let’s join forces. Unite our families." Her smile sharpened, turning dangerous. "We’ll be indestructible power couple. My family will stand with you."
Her touch lingered. Her eyes gleamed, when he didn’t push her away. Yet.
Dominic moved.
His hand shot forward, faster than her breath could hitch. His fingers clamped around her throat, iron, and merciless. In a single motion, he yanked her up from her seat, and slammed her back against the wall.
The marble table crashed sideways, and the plates shattered on the ground.
Theresa gasped, her body jolting against the cold wall. The impact rattled her spine. His grip was crushing, and cutting off her air.
Her first thought wasn’t fear.
It was heat.
Dominic had always loved it hard and dirty.
Her lips parted, and for a fraction of a second, she thought... no, she believed he was about to kiss her. She believed he was about to give her his rough, brutal, and consuming kiss like before. Her smile flickered through her strained gasp.
"Dominic—"
But his face was not desire. It was ice. His grip tightened, his jaw clenched, amd his eyes burned with fury that could set the whole room on fire.
He pressed harder, and lifted her feet lifted slightly from the ground.
Theresa’s hands clawed at his wrist, but still she smiled faintly, her lips trembling. "You... you used to love me," she choked out. Her voice was breathless. "You love me."
Dominic’s free hand trembled at his side, curling into a fist. His chest heaved with a ragged breath. Memories flooded into his head, and crawled their way up. Her betrayal, her lies, and the wreckage she left him to crawl out from all swam up again.
He went through a thousand different emotions at once, but his face remained cold. He stated quiet, and when he finally parted his lips, his voice came low, deadly, controlled only by a thread.
"Never. Not even in your wildest dream... should you think about touching Celeste again."
Theresa blinked. Her smile slipped. Venom rushed into her gaze, and turned sharper than her painted nails still scratching at his arm.
She tried to wrench free, desperate for air. His grip only tightened, and he lifted her higher.
Her eyes widened. He would kill her. She sensed he would. He would do it without hesitation.
Panic rushed in where her arrogance had lived. She tapped his arm with trembling fingers, the signal of surrender. Her nails dug into his skin mindlessly, as she clawed him, desperate to be released. She nodded, her lips forming soundless words.
"I... understand."
Dominic’s jaw locked. For one brutal second, he considered snapping her neck. The silence was split only by her strangled gasps, and the wild pound of her pulse under his palm.
Then, just when she thought she should take in her last breath, he released her violently.
Her body dropped to the floor in a graceless heap. Her lungs convulsing for air, coughing as her chest heaved.
Dominic didn’t spare her a glance. He turned, his long strides as he carried himself toward the door. The shadows swallowed him whole as he left the restaurant without a word, neither did he look back to see if she was alright.
Theresa lay on the cold floor, her nails pressing against her throat, her breaths coming in ragged, broken pulls.
And then, as the fire burned in her chest, she laughed. Her laugh came out low, breathless, and cruel.
"So... Dominic Cross," she whispered, her lips curling, her eyes glittering. "It’s war you want?"
She coughed, straightened, and smiled through the ache in her neck.
"It’s war you shall have."