Chapter 18 ATHENA
ATHENA
Do you know what’s weirder than watching a stranger’s brain get blown out right before your eyes? Sitting across from Dominic Stone in an empty five-star restaurant while he orders the entire menu. Deadly calm and formal, as if he hadn’t just blown a man’s brains out an hour ago.
After Alec shoved me into the SUV, he vanished. Minutes later, Dominic slid inside, adjusted his suit, and told the driver to go. That’s how we ended up here.
The table overflowed with dishes, steam curling into the air.
My stomach growled like it wanted to betray me.
Dominic didn’t touch a thing. He sat back, watching me, fingers tapping against the table, eyes steady and unblinking.
The waitress tried to flirt, but he dismissed her with a flick of his hand.
Finally, breaking the silence, he said, “Eat, Athena.”
“I’m not hungry,” I lied. My stomach roared in protest. His eyes narrowed, and heat crawled up my neck.
“You said you couldn’t eat in front of my father,” he reminded me, scratching his jaw, silver ring catching the light. He remembered. Why did he care?
“Yeah, but—”
“Eat, Athena,” he cut me off, voice low and commanding.
So I obeyed. The food was heaven, and I devoured it like I hadn’t eaten in days. When I dared glance up, Dominic was smirking, barely there, but enough to tighten my chest. I wiped my lips with a napkin.
“Aren’t you worried someone might recognize me here and report to my father?” I glanced around. The restaurant was empty except for us and the staff. Dominic shrugged, relaxed back in his chair with his hands folded on his lap.
“I own the place,” he said casually. “I’m not worried.”
“Oh.” Of course he did.
“Did I just ruin your little fantasy? Hoping someone would spot you and drag you back to daddy?” His eyebrow arched.
“No,” I lied. But yes. My father was probably frantic by now.
No matter how powerful or connected he was, he couldn’t find me.
That told me everything about Dominic. Smart and cruel.
We fell into comfortable silence while I sampled every dessert on the table.
When I finished, I sipped water and finally spoke.
Not that Dominic looked like he wanted to talk.
“Why did you do that?” The question that had been burning inside me since leaving his father’s house.
“Do what?” He looked genuinely confused. Unbelievable.
“Kill this man.” I dropped my voice to a whisper. “Why?”
“He had a filthy big mouth. Someone had to teach him a lesson,” he shrugged, like it was no big deal.
“You could’ve done that without killing him,” I hissed. He scoffed.
“Excuse me for corrupting your virgin eyes, little princess.” His fingers tapped lazily against the armrest, rings catching the light. Those hands… the same ones that had touched me. I swallowed hard.
No, Athena, don’t go there.
“You should be used to death, considering who your father is.”
I clenched my jaw. He was dragging my father into this again. I didn’t need the reminder of how much Dominic hated my family—I knew. When I didn’t answer, his gaze sharpened and his eyes locked with mine, curious.
“You really don’t know what kind of man your father is, huh, dollface?”
I knew my father wasn’t innocent—everyone feared him. But Dominic painted him like the devil himself. To me, my father was a good man. He’d never treated me or my brother with anything but love and kindness. Something Dominic would never understand.
“Why don’t you enlighten me?” I challenged, leaning forward, hands on the table. “You seem to know more about him than I do. Nic—or should I call you Dominic?”
He smirked, unimpressed.
“Eat, Athena. I have places to be.”
He glanced at his gold watch. His jaw tightened.
I hated that I noticed how handsome he was beneath that cold, rough exterior—more than I’d admit.
I kept eating silently. The chocolate cake was too good to waste words on.
When I finished, I looked at him. Dominic was typing on his phone, face stern, black hair falling over his eyes—always looking wet, soft, and…
dirty. I decided I’d be a thorn in his ass today.
“Well, tell me something about you.”
His glare could’ve sliced me open.
“I hate eating in silence,” I added with a shrug.
“What makes you think I want to share anything with you?”
“Because I’m going to be dead soon anyway,” I said lightly, even though the words tasted like ash. “You’ll kill me and my family—who would I tell your secrets to?”
The humor in my voice sounded cracked, and I felt the weight of truth crush down on me.
He would kill me eventually. Just like he’d killed that man—without blinking.
And yet here I was, letting him touch parts of me no one ever had.
And the worst part? My body responded like he wasn’t dangerous at all.
He narrowed his eyes, tapping the side of his chair.
Something flickered in the darkness of his gaze, but vanished quickly.
Then, after what felt like a lifetime, he nodded.
“What do you want to know?”
“Let’s start easy. How old are you?”
“Twenty-five,” He answered without hesitation, then added, “Soon to be twenty-six.”
“You have a birthday coming up?” My eyes widened.
“Two days, exactly.” His face remained unreadable, bored even.
“You don’t seem excited.”
“That’s probably because I’m not.” He leaned back, casual. “It’s just a regular day.”
“Just a regular day?” I repeated louder, offended on his behalf. “It’s your day. You should be excited!”
“There’ll be a celebration. Not by my choice.” He pulled out a sleek black wallet, waved over the waitress, and handed her a hundred-dollar bill with the ease of someone tossing away pennies. “Like I said, just a regular day.”
He tipped? In his own restaurant? Okay…
“You’re a crazy man, Dominic Stone.” I shook my head in disapproval.
He laughed. Actually laughed. The sound curled through me, dark and addictive.
“That’s a compliment compared to what most people call me.”
“May I come?” The words tumbled out before I could stop them.
His brow rose, slow and deliberate.
“To your birthday,” I clarified, heart hammering. I’m such an idiot.
He stared at me, expression unreadable. I felt like I was being weighed, dissected. A thousand unspoken things swirled in his gaze. Seconds passed. Minutes.
“I’ll see what I can do about that request,” he said finally, voice low and rough.
Not a yes. Not a no. Something in between. And it made me smile like a fool.
He rose from his chair, fixing his suit.
That was my cue to follow. As we walked out, his hand slid low around my waist, guiding me toward the back exit.
His grip wasn’t possessive—it was commanding, protecting, and burning through me.
He nodded to his staff; the waitresses’ eyes followed him with hunger, but he didn’t even look at them.
His hand never left me. Back in the SUV, he turned to me, amused.
“You got another ridiculous question hidden in your pocket, dollface?”
He looked almost eager. I had so many questions. But I played it safe.
“What’s your favorite color?”
Yeah, I know. It sounds stupid, but it says a lot about a person. Without missing a beat, he told the driver to go, eyes forward.
“Black.”
Of course.
“Why?” I leaned closer, curious.
His green eyes met mine, hitting me like a knife to the chest.
“Because black is all I know.”
My breath caught. It was short, but the meaning behind it hit harder than anything else he’d said tonight. I bit my lip and nodded. I looked out the window, letting the conversation die. Until his voice cut through the silence.
“What’s yours?”
I turned back to him, caught off guard. For the first time, he wanted to know something about me. Our eyes locked, and something shifted.
“Purple,” I said softly.
He chuckled, breaking eye contact first.
“Of course it is.”
I turned to the window, smiling into the night.