33. Dominic
33
Dominic
T hat same evening, I adjust my tie in the mirror, my thoughts still churning with guilt after my meeting with Nico this morning.
I’ve been avoiding her all day since returning from that breakfast with Nico. Buried myself in meetings at the office, conference calls, anything to keep from facing her.
Coward.
But now we have this networking event, another public appearance to maintain our perfect married facade. Young Entrepreneurs, or something or other.
When I step out, Tatiana is already waiting in the living room, dressed in one of her perfect pantsuits, hair swept into a sleek ponytail. She looks immaculate. Untouchable.
“Ready?” she asks, her tone carefully neutral. “The car’s waiting downstairs.”
I nod, straightening my cufflinks. “Let’s get this over with.”
I can feel her eyes on me, assessing. Waiting. When I don’t offer anything more, she sighs.
“Fine,” she says. “You’re clearly in a mood.”
The ride to Midtown is mostly silent. Traffic crawls through the city streets, making the journey feel interminable. Next to me in the back seat, Tatiana fidgets with her watch, the expensive Cartier she purchased a couple of weeks ago.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?” she finally asks, her voice low enough that Ric can’t overhear from the driver’s seat.
“Nothing’s going on,” I reply, keeping my eyes fixed on the window.
“Bullshit.” The sharpness in her tone makes me turn. “Yesterday we had sex. Multiple times. I stayed in your bed. And now you can barely look at me.”
I clench my jaw. “Ric. The privacy shield.”
Ric turns on music in the front, and I wait until the privacy shield is in place.
Then I turn to face her. “We have a complex arrangement, Tatiana. Let’s not complicate it further.”
“Complicate it?” she repeats, incredulous. “That’s rich coming from the man who bent me over his desk yesterday.”
“That was just physical release,” I say, the lie bitter on my tongue.
Her eyes narrow. “Why are you always so hot-cold? Why? I don’t get it. Push then pull. Push then pull. Constantly. Why? What did I do to deserve this? I slept in your bed last night. That means nothing to you? I thought we were... we were...”
“Whatever you thought, you were wrong,” I tell her coldly, hating myself with every word.
Hurt flashes across her face before she masks it with cool indifference. She turns away, staring out her own window, shoulders rigid.
The guilt threatens to choke me. I want to tell her the truth. About Nico. About my promise. About how I can’t stop thinking about her even though I know I should.
Instead, I say nothing, and the silence between us feels like another betrayal.
When we finally arrive at the venue, a sleek high-rise housing a conference center on its lower floors, I step out first and offer Tatiana my hand. She takes it without looking at me, her grip loose, performative. Angry.
Behind us, my security detail emerges from the follow car. They take up a shadow position behind us.
Grant Vance, another member of my team, approaches as we enter, whispering updates in my ear. “All clear inside, sir. We’ve done a complete sweep. Jake is already stationed near the main entrance.”
I nod my acknowledgment. “Keep the usual perimeter. Tatiana is your priority today.”
The networking event is already in full swing when we enter the main conference room. Young tech entrepreneurs, finance prodigies, and business school graduates network aggressively, everyone trying to make an impression. I spot several familiar faces, including Christopher and Lucy Blackwell across the room, deep in conversation with a venture capitalist. Gideon and Ava King are with them.
“There’s Christopher,” Tatiana says, the first words she’s spoken to me since the car. “I should say hello.”
“We’ll go together,” I tell her, placing my hand on her lower back in what appears to be an affectionate gesture but is actually me guiding her movements. “Remember, we’re the happy couple today.”
She shoots me a look that could freeze hell. “Of course, darling. Whatever you say.”
We make our way through the crowd, stopping occasionally when someone important intercepts us. I play my part perfectly, introducing Tatiana as my wife with my arm draped possessively around her waist. She’s equally flawless, smiling and charming everyone we meet.
We’re halfway across the room when Tatiana suddenly freezes beside me. Her entire body goes rigid, her face draining of color. I follow her gaze, scanning the crowd until I spot what caused her reaction.
A tall man with perfectly styled brown hair stands near the bar, laughing with two others. He’s conventionally handsome in that bland, forgettable way that somehow lands on magazine covers. When he turns slightly, his profile becomes visible, and Tatiana’s sharp intake of breath tells me everything I need to know.
This must be the ex. The one who left her at the altar.
Anger rises in me, hot and immediate. This fucker humiliated her, abandoned her on what should have been the happiest day of her life, and now he has the audacity to be here, in the same room, acting like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
Without thinking, I tighten my hold on Tatiana’s waist, drawing her closer to my side. My eyes find Jake across the room and I give him a subtle nod in the ex’s direction. Jake understands immediately, positioning himself and Grant to create a human barrier between Tatiana and her former fiancé.
“Tatiana,” I say softly, close to her ear. “Are you all right?”
I’m barely restraining the instinct to march over there and punch the fucker in the face.
She nods stiffly, but I can feel the fine tremor running through her body.
“Do you want to leave?” I ask.
“No,” she says, her voice barely audible. “I won’t give him the satisfaction.”
Pride surges through me at her strength, even as I want to rush across the room and fuck the bastard up.
“That’s him, isn’t it?” I ask. “The man who left you at the altar.”
She gives me a startled look, then slumps slightly. “I forgot you had a detailed background profile on me to memorize after we were married.”
“Just as you had one on me,” I tell her.
“Yeah, though somehow I suspect yours wasn’t quite as detailed as mine,” she says bitterly. She glances her ex’s way again, swallows hard. “Rylan Mitchell. We were engaged for eighteen months. He... he married someone else three months after leaving me.”
The rage intensifies, burning in my chest. “What a fucking coward.”
Like me. Like fucking me.
Her eyes dart to mine, surprised by my vehemence.
“He hasn’t seen us yet,” I tell her. “We can avoid him entirely if you want.”
She takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. “No. I won’t hide.”
“Then let’s give him something to regret,” I say, shifting to stand directly in front of her, blocking her from his view. I place both hands on her waist, looking down at her with an expression I hope conveys genuine affection rather than the storm of emotions actually raging inside me.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her hands coming to rest on my chest.
“Making sure he knows exactly what he lost,” I answer truthfully.
Something shifts in her eyes, a vulnerability I rarely get to see. “Dom...”
I lean down, pressing my forehead against hers. “You’re worth ten of him, Tatiana. A hundred.”
Her lower lip does this quivery thing, and she starts blinking rapidly again. She suddenly closes her eyes.
I catch movement in my peripheral vision. The ex has spotted us. His expression goes from shock to calculation in seconds, and he starts making his way in our direction.
Fucking predictable.
“He’s coming over,” I murmur. “Can I punch him in the face?”
Tatiana tenses again. “Please Dom. Don’t make a scene. I just... I don’t want to speak to him.”
I straighten, keeping one arm firmly around Tatiana as I turn to face the approaching man. Jake and Grant move smoothly, intercepting him before he can get within ten feet of us.
“I’m sorry, sir,” I hear Jake say politely but firmly. “This area is currently restricted.”
The ex frowns, looking confused. “I just want to say hello to an old friend.”
“I understand, sir, but I’m going to have to ask you to move along.”
I guide Tatiana away, leading her toward a quieter corner of the room. There’s no one close enough to eavesdrop on us. “You don’t have to talk to him. Not today. Not ever.”
She looks up at me, a mixture of gratitude and curiosity in her eyes. “Thank you. But why do you care?”
The question catches me off guard. Why do I care? Because seeing her hurt makes something primal and protective roar to life inside me? Because the thought of anyone disrespecting her makes me want to tear them apart? Because somewhere along the way, this temporary arrangement has become all too real for me?
“We have an agreement,” I say instead, cowardly again. My voice little more than a whisper. “Your wellbeing affects our arrangement.”
Her expression shutters, and I know I’ve said the wrong thing.
Again.
But I had to.
Had to.
Coward.
“Right,” she says flatly. Softly. She looks around to make sure no one is close enough to hear. “The arrangement .”
I scan the room, making sure the ex is still being kept at bay. Jake has him engaged in conversation now, effectively distracting him while Grant maintains position, blocking any potential approach.
“Do you want to leave?” I ask again. “We’ve made our appearance. We can go if you’re uncomfortable.”
She considers it, then shakes her head. “No. I want to at least say hello to Christopher and Lucy. I won’t let Rylan ruin this, too.”
I admire her resilience even as I wish she would let me take her away from here, away from the pain etched in the tightness around her eyes.
“All right,” I concede. “But I’m staying by your side.”
“Playing the protective husband?” she asks, a hint of bitterness in her tone.
I meet her gaze steadily. “Yes.”
Something in my voice must convince her, because her expression softens slightly.
“Lead the way then, husband,” she says, the word sounding like both an endearment and an accusation.
As we cross the room toward Christopher and Lucy, I catch sight of Rylan Mitchell again. He’s watching Tatiana with an expression I recognize all too well.
Hunger.
Yes, I can almost see him assessing her value now that she wears my ring, now that she stands beside a man with billions instead of the mid-level marketing hack he apparently is.
I know exactly what he’s thinking. That maybe he can worm his way back into her life. That maybe he can leverage their history to get close to her resources. To me. Perhaps hoping he might be able to fuck her somewhere along the way.
Pathetic bastard.
I place my hand on the small of Tatiana’s back once more, the gesture no longer just for show. It’s a statement. A warning to the man watching us.
Mine.
For now, at least.
The irony isn’t lost on me.
In two days, I’ll be signing away any claim to this incredible woman.
Worse, I’ve agreed to introduce her to my manipulative brother.
What kind of fucking monster am I?
What kind of coward?
But for today, in this moment, I can protect her from one ghost from her past. I can be the shield between her and the man who hurt her so deeply.
It’s not enough. It doesn’t begin to make up for what I’ve done, what I’m about to do.
But it’s all I have to offer right now.
I just wish someone would protect me from my own ghosts.
Two days.
Then I lose her, too.