Chapter 38: Chapter 38
Music Recommendation: Never felt so alone by Labrinth.
....
The lights of the city shimmered in the distance, cold and unreachable behind the floor-to-ceiling windows of Dominic’s penthouse suite.
The untouched glass of scotch on the table caught some of that shine, refracting it in amber tones. But Dominic didn’t look at it. He just sat still. His eyes were fixed on the skyline, and his jaw locked tight.
"She’s stable," came the voice of his assistant, reciting the message from the short report. "No visitors. No panic. She’s not eating much, but she’s trying. No signs of the press near her location."
Dominic nodded slowly, saying nothing. His fingers tapped a restless beat against the marble tabletop. The silence that followed was heavy, almost judgmental.
He finally broke it, voice low and dry. "Do I reach out?"
The assistant didn’t answer. It wasn’t meant for them anyway.
"She probably hates me."
"She doesn’t," came Roman’s voice from behind as he stepped into the suite. His tone was even, but the tension in it didn’t bother masking itself. "She’s scared. And she has every right to be."
Dominic didn’t turn around.
The silence between them stretched again. It was like stepping into a room where history lived in the walls, in the unsaid.
Roman sighed and crossed the space to pour himself a drink. His own, not Dominic’s. He downed it quickly, like it was courage and restraint in liquid form.
"I know I’m Landon’s father," Roman said after a beat, "but I’m not blind. That girl didn’t ask for this circus."
"She didn’t," Dominic agreed quietly.
Roman waited, expecting more. When none came, he scoffed and turned toward his brother, his face was tight with barely-concealed disappointment.
"So what the hell are you waiting for?"
Dominic leaned back, still calm. He seemed too calm. "If I reach out now, I’ll break her."
"No," Roman snapped. "You already did that."
The words landed heavy. Dominic’s eyes flickered, but he said nothing. The truth did sting.
Roman moved closer. His voice lowered, thick with bitterness. "You always do this. You hover. You swoop in when no one’s looking, and when the damage is done, you vanish. Like some damn ghost with clean hands."
Dominic’s lips pressed into a line. His fingers stopped drumming.
"You didn’t just screw around with some intern, Dom. You hurt someone who actually had something going for her. She had a scholarship. An internship. A future. Do you know how hard it is to get those without a name behind you?"
"She wasn’t some screw," Dominic said. His voice was quiet but hard. "Don’t talk like you know anything about it."
Roman laughed bitterly. "God, you really don’t see it, do you? The trail you leave behind. You steal people’s peace, Dom. Their futures. Their happiness. You take what you want, and you leave wreckage in your wake like it’s nothing."
The silence that followed felt like glass ready to crack.
Dominic finally stood. He moved towards the window, and his reflection stared back at him in the dark glass. He looked every bit the man the world knew. Calculated, composed, and in control.
"I don’t take what I want," he said after a long moment. "I wait until I think no one wants it... and even then, I hesitate."
Roman’s eyes narrowed. "What’s that supposed to mean?"
Dominic turned slightly, just enough to speak without facing him.
"You’re right," he murmured. "She had something good. So I stayed away. I always do."
"But then she came to you," Roman filled in, his voice cooling into disappointment. "And you didn’t stop her."
"No," Dominic admitted.
Roman walked to the table, setting his glass down hard enough to make it clink. "You know, I used to envy you. You always had that... that control. That mystique. You didn’t need anyone, and you didn’t answer to anyone. But now? I see it clearly."
He pointed a finger, voice firm. "You’re alone, Dom. Not because people abandoned you. But because you made sure they couldn’t stay."
Dominic’s face twitched. Just barely. He felt those words really sharp, and deep in his heart.
Roman stepped closer. "Landon loved that girl. He may not have said it outright, but I know my son. And now, he’s gutted. The press is all over it. The school might pull her scholarship. Your silence is drowning everyone but you." He tsked. "They’re even engaged,"
"You think I don’t know all that?" Dominic asked, voice low and bitter. He was holding back everything in him not to yell. This was eating him up more than anyone would ever suspect.
"Then do something. Fix it."
Dominic chuckled dryly and turned away again. "You can’t fix things when you’re the infection."
Roman stared at his brother. "You weren’t always like this."
"No?" Dominic asked. "You sure?"
"I remember when you laughed. When you gave a damn. Before Dad died. Before you pulled away from everyone like we were the plague."
Dominic exhaled slowly, his jaw working again. "He died in my arms," he said finally. "And I didn’t even know he was sick. You all kept it from me because I was ’too busy.’ Because I had ’deals to close.’ And when I showed up, it was already too late. You want to know why I keep people at a distance, Roman?"
He finally turned fully to face him. "Because they leave."
His father didn’t die from illness, but he made sure his mother and brother bought it. His mafia involvement killed him, and then, he had to carry all the weight of it so it didn’t touch anyone. He did all of that without telling anyone.
Roman flinched. The rawness in Dominic’s voice wasn’t something he expected.
"I don’t get close because I’m tired of watching people die, or disappear, or hate me," Dominic added. "So yes—I ruined something good. Again. But don’t stand there and pretend like you understand me."
The brothers stared at each other. Fury danced between them.
Then Roman’s voice softened. It wasn’t kinder, but it was lower now. "Celeste didn’t leave. There’s a difference. And you... you’re just giving her a reason to never look back."
Dominic didn’t respond.
Roman’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it, sighed, and turned toward the door.
"I’ll clean up after you. Like always. But I’m not doing this forever."
He walked out, leaving Dominic standing there with nothing but the city lights and the cold drink that had long lost its purpose.
Dominic moved back to the table, picked up his untouched glass, then set it down again.
He didn’t drink.
Instead, he pulled out his phone. Not to call her but to scroll through the photos again. He scoffed remembering what Roman said about cleaning up the mess like always. He only made Roman believe that.
He stared at the picture where she was laughing on his shoulders. He stared at another one with her tucked into his chest, like she belonged there.
He also scrolled to the one with her eyes closed and her arms around him, as if the world outside them didn’t matter.
For a moment, he let himself remember.
Then he opened a private file and reviewed the court orders already in motion. His legal team had sent it earlier. DMCA takedown notices. Privacy violation filings. Threats of civil suits.
He could clean the internet. Maybe even quiet the noise. But he couldn’t clean the look in her eyes when she realized he was part of the problem.
And he couldn’t silence the part of himself that wondered what it would’ve been like if he’d never touched her at all.