Chapter 48: Chapter 48
The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting golden rays across the expansive bedroom. For the first time in what felt like forever, the light touched Celeste’s skin without the immediate weight of dread. The linen sheets beneath her felt impossibly soft, and for a fleeting second, she forgot everything.
Then she turned, reaching out.
He wasn’t there.
Dominic’s side of the bed was cold.
Celeste pushed herself up slowly. Her muscles ached in places she didn’t remember using. Her hair fell over her shoulders in a mess of waves, and her throat felt dry.
The events of last night, her trembling hands dialing Dominic, and the storm of emotions surging after discovering the wreckage of her apartment washed over her all over again. She squeezed her eyes shut.
She wasn’t safe.
Not even in her own home.
A knock echoed from the suite’s double doors, tentative and low. Celeste wrapped the silk robe around her and padded to the door barefoot, her heart thudding faster than she wanted to admit. She cracked it open just slightly.
One of Dominic’s staff stood there, his gaze lowering politely.
"Mr. Dominic asked me to bring you breakfast, Miss Celeste," he said, wheeling in a silver cart.
She stepped aside wordlessly, her mind elsewhere. She scanned the hallway outside instinctively, her skin prickling. The door shut softly behind them.
She suddenly had a strong fear of someone watching her, and had no idea what to do about it.
The scent of warm croissants and fresh berries should have stirred her appetite, but her stomach clenched.
"Is Dominic here?" she asked finally.
The man paused. "He left before dawn. He didn’t say where."
She gave a nod of thanks and waited until he left. Then the silence returned too loud this time after he left.
The croissants sat untouched as she lowered herself into one of the velvet chairs, hands wrapped tightly around the tea Dominic had prepared before he left.
Her apartment had been ransacked.
Whoever broke in didn’t come for valuables.
They came for her.
Celeste curled her knees up to her chest and stared out the window, watching the city move on like nothing had changed. But everything had. She couldn’t go back there. Not yet.
Celeste drew the silk robe tighter around her. The tea in her hands had long gone lukewarm, but she didn’t move to refresh it.
Her thoughts were louder than anything else.
Was this the last time? Or would this be her new rhythm? An endless chase between momentary peace and lurking danger?
She tried to imagine waking up next week.
Would it be in another strange bed, wrapped in another robe that wasn’t hers, sipping tea she hadn’t brewed, staring into a future that refused to promise safety?
Her apartment had been more than four walls.
It had been her sanctuary. Her breath of independence. Now it was just another crime scene.
Her body still trembled when she closed her eyes. The door swung open in her mind over and over again, revealing shards of glass, overturned drawers, slashed couch cushions.
Whoever did it wasn’t just looking for something.
They wanted to send a message.
And she got it. Loud and clear.
She wasn’t untouchable. Not even with Dominic Cross’s name on her lips.
Was this what life with Dominic would be?
She didn’t need grand gestures. She only needed to feel safe. To breathe without counting locks. And to sleep without wondering who knew where she was.
He had promised protection, and part of her believed him. But protection wasn’t the same as peace. And Celeste wasn’t sure how many more nights like last night she could survive.
Would this be the only time someone tried to rip through her world? Or would it happen again? And again? Until the last time ended with a phone call no one answered or a headline that barely spelled her name right?
She stood abruptly, her knees stiff and protesting. The tea sloshed slightly as she placed it back on the tray.
She wasn’t some porcelain ornament in Dominic’s world. She wasn’t going to be another pawn in whatever war he was silently fighting.
Being near Dominic was both armor and target. He’d pulled her in without question, tucked her beneath his shadow. But shadows moved. Shadows couldn’t always protect you when you needed light.
Celeste pressed her forehead to the glass. The cold shocked her skin, and she welcomed it.
Was this love supposed to come with bruises you couldn’t see?
Would he always vanish before dawn, leaving her with nothing but breakfast trays and locked doors?
Her heart clenched again, not out of heartbreak, but because she didn’t know if she was capable of living like this.
Of waking up and wondering.
Of waiting for the next crash, the next silent break-in, the next breath that caught because she smelled danger before she saw it.
She whispered quietly, "Is this going to be forever?"
Her phone vibrated gently on the nightstand. Celeste turned, reluctant to see who it was.
Dominic.
He sent a message. "You’re safe now. I handled it."
Safe!
The word should have felt like a balm. But it didn’t. She didn’t doubt he handled it. She doubted how long the peace would last.
Was this what loving him meant?
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.
"Are you coming back?" she typed.
She stared at the blinking cursor.
Then deleted it. Instead. She typed. "Thank you." and pressed send.
She didn’t want to seem clingy. She didn’t want to seem like she needed more. However, she did.
She wanted answers. She wanted Dominic to look her in the eye and tell her that this life didn’t come with a constant risk of being hunted.
She wanted to be more than a woman sheltered behind security guards and locked doors.
He once told her about this and she thought there’d be nothing more than loving from afar. Perhaps, this was a cue. Should she take it and leave?