34. Sebastian
Chapter 34
Sebastian
I don’t waste time.
The second I leave Genevieve’s apartment, I’m already reaching for my phone. I’ve let this go on long enough, but I’m not about to risk Heather swooping in and ruining things with Genevieve again.
Dom should have had answers by now. He’s never taken this long before. Normally, I ask, and within hours—minutes sometimes—he delivers. The man is thorough, precise. It’s why I hired him in the first place. It’s why I’ve kept him around all these years.
If it’s taking this long, either Heather is better connected than I gave her credit for, or something about this situation isn’t what it seems.
Heather isn’t resourceful enough to pull this off on her own. She’s working with someone who has more reach, more resources. It would explain her uncanny ability to appear exactly when she could do the most damage. I can account for desperation, ambition. But planning? Strategy? That requires something different entirely.
The possibility that it’s someone close gnaws at me. I trust so few people. I built my world with walls thick enough to keep out anyone who didn’t earn their place, brick by brick. Dom was one of the only ones who made it inside. The thought that he would turn, that he would weaponize that trust against me, is almost laughable.
Almost.
But the signs are there. The timing. The excuses. The tiny inconsistencies I didn’t want to see before because it was easier to believe loyalty could be permanent if you paid enough for it.
Loyalty isn’t permanent. When the balance shifts, when the scales tip, even the ones closest to you will sell you out.
I press the call button. It rings longer than it should before Dom picks up.
"Status," I say, without preamble.
"Still compiling," Dom says. "She’s been careful. No obvious electronic trails."
Bullshit.
Heather’s ambition outweighs her subtlety. If Dom hasn’t found anything, it’s because he hasn’t been looking in the right places—or because he never intended to.
My mind runs through the angles. Who benefits if Genevieve walks away? Who benefits if I stay isolated? Who benefits if I stop building the future that—until recently—I didn’t even realize I wanted?
Heather, sure—at least in her mind. If Genevieve is out of the way, then she can just slide right in and take her place, right? Fuck no. I wouldn’t touch that bitch with a ten-foot pole. But she’s delusional enough to believe otherwise.
I hang up without another word. Anything else would be wasted breath.
I head into the office with every intention of getting to the bottom of this tonight. Whatever lingering hesitation I might have clung to is gone. I know what I need to do. Dom made his choice the moment he decided my life needed editing.
By the time I step into the building, I’m ready to do what needs to be done.
The place is mostly empty, the late hour driving everyone else out hours ago. Good. I don’t need an audience for this. I sit at my desk, pull up the network access logs, and start combing through them myself. It doesn’t take long. It never does when you know what you’re looking for.
Dom’s credentials pop up too many times where they shouldn’t. Accessing files he had no reason to touch. Monitoring comms logs he was never authorized to view. His fingerprints are all over every point of contact tied to Genevieve, to Silas and Max, even to Heather.
Heather didn’t find me by accident. She was pointed at me like a weapon, set loose at the exact moment she could do the most damage.
And Dom held the leash.
The anger that coils through me is red-hot. I lean back in my chair, staring at the evidence sprawled across my screen, the final nail in the coffin of a man I once trusted without question.
I don’t know if Dom thought he was protecting me or if he thought he was cleaning up a mess before it could derail the empire we built.
But Genevieve isn’t a fucking mess. She’s the only thing in my life that ever made sense. She was never the threat. Dom was.
I’m not surprised to find Dom in his office this late. He’s just closing his laptop, his bag half-packed. His head snaps up when he sees me, and for the first time, he looks nervous.
Good.
I stop in his doorway. "We’re done," I say, voice cutting across the quiet.
He straightens, setting the laptop aside. "Sebastian?—"
“Did you think I wouldn’t look into this myself? You didn’t even try to hide your trail, Dom.”
The color drains from his face, but he doesn’t deny it.
"I needed you to be loyal," I continue, every word hitting harder than the last. "But you’re not, are you?"
His jaw clenches, but again, he says nothing.
"You’re finished here. Effective immediately. Leave your badge, your keys, your access credentials on the desk."
There’s a long, tense pause. I don’t fill it.
Dom’s hand tightens around the strap of his bag, his face twisting into something ugy. For a second, I think he might do the smart thing—just leave, salvage what little dignity he has left.
Of course he doesn’t.
"You think she loves you?" The words hit the air like poison. "You think she’s any different than the others?"
Dom sneers, stepping closer, just inside the boundary he knows better than to cross. "She’s using you, Sebastian. Using all of you. Silas. Max. She saw an opportunity and took it. You’re just following your cock and you can’t see it."
I watch him, unflinching. Let him hang himself.
"She’s got you wrapped around her finger," he spits. “You think the pregnancy was an accident? Even after she jumped into bed with your two best friends, playing the poor, abandoned girl? And what happens when she gets bored? When the money dries up? She’ll move on to the next big thing, and you’ll be the pathetic asshole left picking up the pieces."
His voice gets louder, the desperation bleeding through. Not righteous anger. Fear. Fear that everything he gambled on is slipping through his fingers.
"You think you’re building a life with her?" Dom laughs, a rough, ugly sound. "You’re building a fucking noose, and you’re handing her the rope."
I let the silence stretch, wrapping around him, tightening until even he can’t pretend he hasn’t overplayed his hand.
Finally, I speak. "Are you finished?"
Dom’s mouth snaps shut. His face is flushed.
I take a slow step forward, forcing him back. "You don’t get to rewrite the story just because you lost. You don’t get to tear her down to justify your own betrayal."
He opens his mouth, but I don’t give him the chance.
"Genevieve didn’t lie. She didn’t scheme. She didn’t manipulate. I’m the one who decided to skip out on the condoms. I’m the one who walked away and threw her at them.”
Another step. Another retreat.
“It wasn't your place to try and handle me. And using Heather Langley of all people. You had to know I would be suspicious.”
“Don’t come crawling back to me when this blows up in your face.”
“If you ever show your face around her again," I say, my voice dropping into something cold and final, "I’ll make sure you regret it."
Dom grimaces. For once, he’s smart enough to know when he’s beaten.
He turns and walks away, his footsteps echoing down the hall.
* * *
I’m outside Silas’s loft before eight a.m. The city is still waking up, but it doesn’t matter. I can’t wait any longer. I need to see her, need to make sure she’s still within reach and not slipping further away because of my failures.
Silas opens the door before I even have a chance to knock. I know he’s had some issues with stalkers in the past, so I’m sure he saw me on the cameras.
“She’s not here,” he says, before I can even ask.
I nod once, absorbing the hit. “Where is she?”
He folds his arms across his chest, every inch of him bristling with the silent promise that if I so much as look at him the wrong way, he’ll throw me down the hall without blinking. “Not your concern. Not until you answer one question.”
I meet his stare evenly. “Ask.”
His mouth twists, somewhere between a snarl and a sneer. “Are you in, or are you out? Because if you’re going to half-ass this, I swear to God, Sebastian, I won’t stand by and watch you hurt her again.”
No hesitation. No second-guessing.
“All in.”
Silas searches my face for any sign of weakness, any fracture he can use to justify slamming the door in my face. But there’s nothing for him to find. I stripped away the excuses, the fear, the half-measures weeks ago.
He exhales slowly, but he still doesn’t move. “You walk away again, Sebastian, and you don’t just lose her. You’ll lose us, too. You’ll lose everything.”
“I’m not walking away.” I let the truth cut through every syllable, let him see how deep it’s buried in me now. “Not again. Not ever. There is no future for me without her. I made a mistake because I was scared. I won’t make that mistake again.”
For a long moment, we just stand there, locked in a silent battle of wills. Then, finally, Silas steps back, giving me enough space to cross the threshold.
“She’s with Max,” he says gruffly, shutting the door behind me.
I nod, the coil of urgency in my chest easing slightly. “Okay.”
Silas watches me for another beat, then jerks his chin toward the living room. “Sit. We’ve got things to discuss.”