Chapter 67: Chapter 67
Almost three hours after the call, the bedroom door creaked open with a soft push, and Dominic paused on the threshold, mid-step.
His gaze snagged on the figure standing by the vanity mirror, and for the first time in a long while, his composure slipped. His expression transformed, and he was left with eyes wide, lips parting slightly, and breath caught in his throat as though the very sight of her stole the air from his lungs.
Celeste had been ready for that reaction. She smiled at him from the vanity mirror.
Dominic was already dressed. She loved how punctual he always was. He looked exceptionally handsome.
She wasn’t nervous. She didn’t pace as she normally did whenever she had to dress up without Amara. She didn’t even fidget with her earrings or second-guess her makeup. She simply stood, watching him watch her with a smile.
The dress was short. It was barely brushing above her knees, and clinging to her in a way that left little to the imagination but managed to remain, somehow, exquisitely tasteful.
The dress was sleeveless, with a daring plunge that hinted without revealing, and a slit on the left that kissed the curve of her thigh each time she shifted her weight.
She wore it for him. And she didn’t care if it was obvious. He bought it for her, and asked her to wear it, and she loved it.
Dominic crossed the room without a word. His jaw flexed as though he were reining in the kind of thoughts that should not be spoken aloud... not yet.
"Sit," he said gently, with a velvet thread in his voice. It wasn’t a request. It was that calm, sure tone he always used when he wanted something and already knew he’d get it.
Celeste arched a brow but obeyed, settling onto the edge of the bed with practiced elegance. Her silver heels were already out, the ones she’d picked out with Amara hours ago, after the call.
Dominic knelt in front of her, his hands brushing her calves with something that fell somewhere between reverence and possession. He slipped the first heel onto her foot, his thumb grazing her ankle, slowly. Yet deliberate.
When he looked up, she was already smiling. A smile that said she saw through him and liked what she saw.
"You’re not making this easy," he murmured, standing. He was just a breath from parting her legs, and kissing the whole of her until she shivered from just kisses.
"Wasn’t trying to."
He smiled, and offered his hand. She took it.
...
The drive was quiet and comforting as usual. Celeste sat with one leg crossed over the other, watching the city blur past, her fingers loosely tangled with Dominic’s on the console between them.
He had told her it’d be a rooftop dinner when she had disturbed him to tell her earlier.
He hadn’t said this.
As the elevator opened on the top floor of a private high-rise, they were greeted by a woman in a black velvet dress who smiled with the kind of trained elegance that screamed exclusivity.
"Mr. Cross. Miss Monroe. Right this way."
Celeste followed, her heels clicking softly on the marble floor until they reached a set of glass doors. The whole place was quiet, and still, just as she liked.
They opened, and suddenly—
The world went silent.
The rooftop had been transformed into a wonderland. Golden lanterns floated from wire above them like gentle stars. Round tables with crystal vases held minimalist arrangements of deep red orchids and white anemones. There was a soft hum of music, a violinist at the far corner playing something that melted into the air.
Beyond the tables, the city glittered in every direction. The wind tugged gently at her hair, cool and clean.
"Dominic," she breathed, not sure if it was a question or praise. "This wasn’t what you said. Also, there’s no special occasion today,"
He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. "Everyday with you is a special occasion. Also, you reached a milestone today all by yourself."
Someone approached with champagne. Celeste took a glass, then turned back to Dominic, her gaze narrowing slightly. "You planned all this. Even before I knew we were doing this again."
He didn’t deny it. "I was always going to take you to dinner. The dress was just a bonus."
She sipped her drink, and joked. "You know I’ll want something bigger if you propose."
He laughed. "Duly noted."
His heart raced for the first time, just at the single thought of proposing to her. He also wanted that, but somehow, he didn’t. He would never want her looking behind her for the rest of her life if something should happen to him.
"Do you do this with all your interns?"
"Only the ones I fall in love with."
Celeste let her eyes wander, soaking in the delicate details: the way the candle flames fluttered inside glass domes, the muted music wrapping around the space like silk, and the quiet lull of traffic below.
She was about to say something else, probably tease him again, but then—
She froze.
Her breath caught mid-inhale. And her words suddenly disappeared.
A chill ran down her spine, crawling over her skin like fingertips dipped in ice.
Near the elevator, and standing just at the edge where the golden light began to fade into shadow, was a woman.
The woman didn’t move, neither did she blink.
She just stood there, her frame elegant, and deliberate, with her arms loosely folded in front of her, as though she had all the time in the world to hate.
And she was staring directly at Celeste.
Not Dominic.
Not the violinist. Not the view, or anything else.
Just Celeste.
The gaze wasn’t curious or passive. It was heavy. And it came with the kind of cold burn that made Celeste’s skin prickle instantly with goosebumps. Her stomach twisted without explanation.
Celeste slowly lowered her champagne glass, her smile thinning. "Dominic..."
She didn’t need to say more. He followed her gaze automatically, then stilled.