Chapter 24 ATHENA
ATHENA
“Mr. Stone expects you, Miss.”
I snapped my book shut as I turned toward the woman in the doorway. Mid-forties, calm smile, and warm eyes. I’d never seen her before. For as long as I could remember, only Alec and Linda ever stepped foot in my room.
But what caught my attention was that Dominic wanted to see me.
I’d woken up this morning to an empty bed, no trace of him as if he’d bolted the second I fell asleep, trying to undo whatever damage last night had done.
“I’ll be ready in a few minutes,” I said.
She dipped her head and disappeared. I stood in front of the mirror, pulling on a blue sundress that hugged every curve just right. My reflection startled me—something in my eyes had shifted, and I knew it wasn’t just me.
Something shifted in Dominic, too. Was I delusional to think so?
The past few days, something about him shifted. He spoke to me instead of grunting or retreating into silence. Hell, he even smiled at me—twice. And that is new.
I adjusted my dress one last time, giving myself a mental approval before stepping out.
She led me downstairs, where he stood waiting for me with one hand in his pocket, the other pressed to his phone.
When he spotted me, he ended the call abruptly, slipping the phone into his perfectly tailored suit.
Butterflies rioted in my stomach, and heat rose in my cheeks. The woman vanished, leaving us alone.
“You wanted to see me?”
His eyes flickered down my dress before rising to meet mine.
“I want you to accompany me. Thought a little variety might interest you.”
“Accompany you where?”
“You’ll see.” He cracked a slow, thin smile.
I swallowed hard, already knowing that saying yes would mean stepping deeper into his dark world, but I couldn’t deny how badly I wanted to.
—
Two hours later, we finally arrived. The drive had flown by faster than I expected.
Dominic had surprisingly let me control the music, and ladies and gentlemen, that’s how I introduced Dominic Stone to Miss Taylor Swift.
I cranked “Shake It Off” to full blast, watching his face twist into something close to horror as if I’d sentenced him to a slow, painful death.
He never told me to turn it down, but the grim set of his jaw said it all.
Yet I caught him laughing quietly a few times while I sang along, completely unapologetic.
The car came to a smooth stop. Dominic got out, circled the vehicle, and opened the door for me. I stepped out and glanced around, puzzled.
“Where are we?”
The place was small—almost forgotten by time. A cluster of dilapidated houses and empty streets stretched before me.
“Clinton,” he said simply.
“Why are we here?”
Dominic’s eyes flickered to mine, his lips curling into a shadow of a smile, but he didn’t answer. He locked the car and led me toward a diner that looked abandoned—its windows dusty, paint peeling like the rest of the town.
“Follow me.”
He didn’t wait for me to catch up, his long strides quick and confident. His strides were long, confident, and I had to hurry to keep up. The main street stretched around us, lined with small, plain houses. Some half-collapsed, others freshly restored.
Then I spotted movement. People tending gardens, sweeping porches. An elderly couple spotted us, and their faces lit up.
“Dominic!” they called warmly.
And to my utter shock, Dominic Stone smiled back, greeting them by name.
“You know these people?” I tilted my head, voice low.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I grew up here.”
“What?” I stopped dead.
He gestured toward the people working their yards.
“I funded the restorations. I plan to do it for the whole town.”
I stopped in my tracks, and my mouth fell open. What?
“What?” His shoulder brushed mine lightly. “Surprised?”
“Yeah,” I said without hesitation. “Kindness isn’t exactly your strongest suit.”
“Truth.” He nodded solemnly. “But this place matters.”
We stopped mid-street. Dominic’s eyes locked onto mine, intense and raw, stirring something deep inside me.
“Because you grew up here?”
He looked away, his gaze settling on a small white house with a green yard to our left. His eyes darkened.
“This is where I grew up.” He nodded toward the house. “I rebuilt it from ashes. It was burned to the ground.”
“Someone burned your home?” My throat tightened.
His silence was answer enough. Who could have done such a thing?
He finally shook his head, swallowing whatever words he was holding back.
“Want me to show you my favorite place here?” His voice regained its usual control.
I nodded, and when he took my hand, leading me down the street, it felt like his sorrow seeped into me through that simple touch. Without thinking, I squeezed his hand. He met my eyes, and for the first time, his gaze softened.
And suddenly, I realized that I don’t really know Dominic Stone. I know the monster the world fears, but here, in this quiet village, behind the walls he’s built around his heart, I saw a different man. And now, more than ever, I want to know the real Dominic Stone.