Chapter 71: Chapter 71
"And yet, this is a secret, Dominic. The worst kind. A two-year secret."
His voice dropped. "I love you."
Her chin quivered.
"I love you, and I was a coward. I was terrified the truth would make you hate me."
"It might."
He nodded slowly. "If it does, I’ll take it. But I couldn’t keep lying. Not when you look at me like I hold your entire world. I had to give you mine, even if it’s ugly. Even if it breaks us."
Her eyes burned.
"Celeste, I swear to you, there’s no more watching. I fell in love with you, not the girl in that folder."
She looked down at the file. Her face stared back at her from one of the photographs. Happy. Oblivious.
Then, softly, she asked, "Are there more files?"
He didn’t hesitate. "Yes."
"On who?"
"Landon. His family. Anyone who could touch mine."
He walked forward. Slowly. Until he was right in front of her.
Her chest heaved.
"Celeste, I swear it. You are my family now."
She looked at him for a long time, her vision clouding. She didn’t step into his arms. She didn’t yell. She just stood there, staring at the man who loved her enough to watch her. Study her. Obsessively, maybe.
She hated how twisted that sounded.
She hated that some small, traitorous part of her still wanted to believe him. But trust had always been a fragile thing for her.
And right now, it was cracked down the middle.
Her voice was quiet. "I need to think."
He nodded. "Take all the time you need."
She turned away.
For the first time, she turned away from him without kissing him.
Dominic didn’t follow her.
Celeste climbed the stairs with trembling legs. His painting of heaven just turned out to be fake, and he took her to hell.
When she reached their bedroom, she paused at the door, with her hand pressed against the wall as if her body couldn’t quite carry the weight of what she now knew.
She sat on the edge of the bed.
Two years!
He’d been watching her for two years.
Her fingers clutched the hem of her gown like an anchor, bunching the soft fabric in her palm. The silver heels still pinched her toes. She hadn’t even taken them off.
He had kissed her with knowledge she didn’t have. Touched her like she was some incredible mystery, when she’d already been solved in a file.
A file.
A damn file. She felt second hand embarrassed.
There was no defense in his eyes. No excuses. Just a man who knew he had done wrong and still dared to offer her his heart.
Her throat ached.
Why did pain feel so intimate with him?
....
Downstairs, Dominic remained in the study.
Her presence was gone, but it lingered in the air like perfume. Her scent was warm and aching. He looked down at the folder. The photos. The details. The mistake.
He should’ve burned it years ago. He should’ve never ordered it in the first place.
He didn’t know if it made him a monster or just a man raised to suspect everything that breathed near the people he loved.
Landon had been a red flag. He knew his nephew, but Celeste? She had simply been a name on a list until she became the girl who smiled too gently for someone that guarded.
She was just the girl who didn’t look at him like she wanted anything from him—until she did. Until she kissed him back. Until she whispered his name like it meant something.
God, what had he done?
This place, everyone and the town felt fake but she was the one real thing. Like a dazzling breath of fresh air.
And just like that, he might had just destroyed it all.
....
Hours passed, and Celeste didn’t sleep.
She sat by the floor to ceiling window, with her legs curled beneath her, while watching the city through a haze of fractured trust.
He had files on Landon and his very own family. And anyone who had the potential to "touch his."
She was one of them now, apparently. One of his.
And maybe that should’ve comforted her. Maybe in some twisted, dark corner of her heart, it did. But mostly, it scared her. The thought of being possessed instead of loved. Observed instead of cherished.
But she knew Dominic. Not just the version in a dossier. She knew the man who traced her spine with reverent hands. The one who listened when she ranted about books. The one who made her feel like the only woman in a world full of chaos.
He was two things at once. Protector and sinner. Broken and whole. Hers... and yet not.
She walked back downstairs. Slowly this time. Dominic was still in the study. He was still seated, with his elbows on his knees. He had his head bowed like a man waiting for judgment.
She stepped inside and didn’t speak.
He lifted his gaze slowly. The moment their eyes met, his breath caught.
She sat opposite him. Folded her arms across her chest. And said the last thing he expected.
"Show me."
His brows drew together.
"All of it," she said. Her voice was steady, but her throat moved like she had to force the words out. "If you’re really done hiding, then show me. Every file. Every secret. Show me how deep this goes. Show me what loving me cost you."
Dominic stared at her like she’d just handed him both damnation and salvation.
He rose. Moved to the cabinet behind his desk. It was a sleek, steel thing. It was locked and controlled. Just like him.
He typed in the code. A soft click echoed through the room.
Then, he handed her a folder.
And another.
And another. He handed her ten more.
They were all filled with names. She recognized some of them, and some she didn’t. She read one about herself that was dated a month ago. He hadn’t stopped.
"You still update it," she whispered.
He sat back down, quietly. "It was a habit."
"No," she snapped, her voice finally breaking through the calm. "You don’t accidentally update a file on the woman you say you love."
Dominic didn’t flinch. "You were being followed three weeks ago. I caught it before anything happened. But I wasn’t going to risk losing you."
"And instead, you lost my trust."