Chapter 43: Chapter 43
Dominic took her hand on her lap and squeezed it, his fingers mixing with hers like they belonged there.
His eyes stayed on the road, the morning light streaking through the tinted windshield of the black Mercedes-Benz S-Class, painting soft shadows across the dashboard. The hum of the engine was steady, and grounding, but Celeste felt everything except calm.
After last night he had insisted on dropping her off himself. It was Dominic, after all. Once he decided, it was done.
She had a few more courses to wrap up before graduation. Two weeks left, that was all. Yet, this morning felt like a new beginning, and the silence between them held a soft tension. Neither of them was in a rush to break it.
"What are you thinking about?" Dominic asked finally. His voice was low and lazy like the ghost of sleep hadn’t fully left him. One hand rested firmly on the steering wheel, and the other was holding hers. He lifted her fingers one by one, brushing kisses across each knuckle like it was routine.
"Nothing," Celeste murmured. "Just the media. It’s been rough."
His eyes flicked to her for a second, and his thumb brushed her palm.
"Let them talk. You’re mine now, and burning the world wouldn’t even change that."
Celeste smiled faintly. Her smile wasn’t because she was used to his dramatic declarations, but because somehow, they always came out quiet and certain, like fact. It never sounded arrogant. Nor possessive. Just conviction.
"You’ll cause an uproar driving me there," she said.
Dominic didn’t look concerned. A hint of amusement curled at the corner of his lips, but he didn’t say anything for a while. Instead, he let their hands rest in her lap, fingers intertwined, and his thumb drawing slow circles on her skin.
They drove in silence for a few minutes. Celeste leaned back into the leather seat and glanced sideways at him. There was a quiet ease about him this morning.
His dark hair was slightly tousled, and the sleeves of his black shirt rolled just high enough to reveal the veins on his forearm. She haven’t still gotten over how good his body was.
His dark hair was slightly tousled, and the sleeves of his black shirt rolled just high enough to reveal the veins on his forearm. She hadn’t still gotten over how good his body was.
Dominic’s build wasn’t loud, but it was impossible to ignore. Every inch of him looked made, not grown—chiselled, like he’d been sculpted out of the most perfect drawing. His shoulders were broad and lean beneath the fabric, his torso tapering with clean, quiet strength.
There was something effortless in the way he held himself, a calm dominance that didn’t demand attention but claimed it anyway. His thighs stretched the dark denim he wore, and she remembered how he tasted and feel last night.
She still remembered how he went down her throat. God, last night was magic.
Celeste’s gaze lingered on the cut of his jaw, and the way it flexed slightly as he chewed on silence. She concentrated in his profile as he drove. Even now, without saying a word, Dominic felt like gravity. He was pulling her in, steady, certain, and infuriatingly composed.
And still, it wasn’t just how striking he looked.
It was how his body made her feel. Like she could come undone and not fall. He made her feel like she could break and still be held together by those hands, those arms, and that chest.
Dominic smiled, and her heart fluttered seeing it was the soft one, the one that looked like it was meant only for her.
"You know they’ll call you a distraction," she said after a moment.
"Good," he murmured.
"They’ll say I didn’t earn it. That I rode on your name." She pressed on.
"Then let them try and be you."
She stared at him, her heart fluttering. "You don’t even flinch."
He finally turned his gaze to her again, slower this time. "Because none of it touches you, Celeste. No one can come close to you. They’ll forever be background noises "
His words settled in her chest. She looked away, blinking out the window to hide the sudden heaviness behind her eyes. His grip on her hand tightened just slightly, like a reminder.
He didn’t speak much after that. Dominic never did when it wasn’t necessary. But he didn’t need to. The way his thumb never stopped moving against her skin, and the way he glanced at her during red lights, said everything.
They reached the university grounds twenty minutes later. The sprawling campus was already busy with students weaving through pathways with late morning chatter buzzing in the air. As they pulled up in front of her faculty building, heads turned instantly.
The Mercedes-Benz glided to a stop in the drop-off circle. Dominic unbuckled his seatbelt with his usual unhurried grace.
"Don’t you dare," he warned Celeste gently when she reacged for the door to open it herself.
Celeste drew her hand back to herself.
He opened his door and stepped out, drawing every pair of eyes in a thirty-meter radius. His height, and his composure, made everyone straighten without knowing why.
He walked around the car slowly, his expression unreadable except for that faint trace of a smile that never left. When he opened her door, he did it like it wasn’t a gesture but a claim. It was deliberate, thoughtful, and personal.
Celeste took his hand and stepped out, immediately feeling the heat of stares. Whispers erupted around them.
"Is that who I think it is?"
"Oh my God, he’s actually here."
"She came with him?"
"That’s Dominic Cross."
"JESUS CHRIST, WHERE IS HER SHAME?"
He didn’t glance at anyone. He didn’t need to.
Celeste stood in front of him, her bag hanging loosely on her shoulder, with her hair falling gently down her back. She was aware of how exposed this moment was. But somehow, under his gaze, everything blurred.
His hand reached for her waist and he pulled her a step closer. She barely had time to breathe before he bent and kissed her.