Chapter 11
11
ISABEL
T he next morning, the iron gates of Dominion Hall loomed before me, imposing even in the soft light. The intricate scrollwork, dark and heavy, twisted into sharp edges that reminded me of the men who lived beyond them—untouchable, ruthless, a world apart from the city that stretched just beyond the estate’s massive walls.
I shifted in the driver’s seat, fingers tapping against the steering wheel, unsure whether I was making a mistake. Coming here was impulsive. Maybe even reckless. But after yesterday—after him—I couldn’t stay away. There were things I wanted to talk about.
I reached for the intercom button, pressing it before I could second-guess myself. A sharp click sounded almost immediately, and a deep, gravel-rough voice filtered through the speaker.
“Yeah?”
I startled slightly, then leaned forward. “Uh … it’s Isabel. ”
There was a pause. Then, amusement laced through the voice. Marcus.
“Well, well. To what do we owe the pleasure?”
I cleared my throat, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “I’m here to see Ryker.”
Another pause. Then, the heavy groan of the gates unlocking.
“Drive up,” Marcus said, the smirk evident in his tone. “Try not to get lost.”
The line cut off with a finality that left little room for hesitation. I swallowed hard and pulled through.
The winding drive leading up to Dominion Hall was even more breathtaking in the daylight. The estate sat proudly against the Charleston harbor, the morning mist rolling in over the water like something out of a dream. The stately mansion stretched across the bluff in a seamless blend of history and power. Spanish moss draped from the old oaks that lined the drive, the scent of salt and earth thick in the air.
It was the kind of place that didn’t just whisper wealth. It demanded it.
I pulled into the circular drive, my heart thumping a little harder when I spotted Ryker standing at the top of the wide steps. He was leaning against one of the columns, arms crossed, watching me with a look that was almost unreadable. Almost.
I stepped out of the car, smoothing my hands over the slinky black dress I’d chosen for today. It wasn’t an accident.
The fabric was soft, almost liquid as it draped over me, clinging in all the right places. The plunging neckline dipped just enough to hint at the lace of my bra, the thin straps barely covering my shoulders. The hem kissed mid-thigh, revealing the soft expanse of my legs, elongated by the sleek black heels I’d strapped on that morning. I wasn’t trying to be obvious. Not exactly. But after yesterday—after the way Ryker had touched me, the way he had looked at me in that bathroom—I wanted to remind him of exactly what he had walked away from.
Judging from the way his gaze dragged over me, slow and assessing, jaw tightening ever so slightly—I had his attention.
“You’re up early,” he said, his voice a rough rasp that did nothing to ease the heat crawling up my spine.
I tilted my head, stepping toward him, feeling the fabric of my dress slide like silk against my skin. “Day off.”
He let his eyes linger just a little longer than necessary before pushing off the column, gesturing for me to follow. “Come on. Might as well give you a proper tour.”
I trailed beside him, my heels clicking softly against the marble as we stepped inside.
The last time I had been here, Dominion Hall had felt like a fortress—all shadows and whispers, a world of quiet power thrumming beneath polished surfaces. But now, in the daylight, it was almost surreal.
The grand entryway was even more impressive than I remembered, the high vaulted ceilings stretching overhead, framed by elaborate chandeliers dripping with crystals that caught the morning light. The walls were lined with dark mahogany paneling, offset by sleek, modern accents—pristine leather furniture, abstract artwork, and towering bookshelves filled with everything from military history to first-edition classics. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the sprawling grounds beyond, allowing golden sunlight to spill into the space .
Beyond the foyer, I caught glimpses of a formal dining room, a massive state-of-the-art kitchen, and what looked like a private bar and lounge, the walls lined with rare bottles of whiskey and cigars.
It was luxurious. Elegant. Designed for men who ruled the world and knew it.
“This isn’t a house,” I murmured, taking it all in. “It’s a damn kingdom.”
Ryker’s lips twitched, but he didn’t argue. He only shrugged. “It’s home.”
I arched a brow. “This isn’t normal, you know.”
He shot me a look, something half-amused, half-challenging. “And what’s normal?”
I didn’t have an answer for that. I could be wrong, but I don’t think Ryker Dane had ever been normal in the first place.
We walked deeper into the house, my fingers trailing lightly over the cool stone of the hallway walls. And then—I saw it again.
Obsidian.
The black viper coiled within its massive glass enclosure, its sleek body twisting lazily around the sculpted tree branch, tongue flicking out like it could taste my discomfort.
I sucked in a breath, stepping back instinctively. “I forgot about that thing.”
Ryker chuckled, moving past me toward the enclosure. “You get used to it.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I doubt that.”
He turned, smirking as he leaned casually against the glass. “Could be worse.”
I folded my arms. “Oh yeah?”
His smirk deepened, and then—the bastard winked. “She could be in your bed instead. ”
Heat flared across my cheeks, my entire body going taut.
“Oh, for the love of—” I glared at him, but it did nothing to ease the very real images flashing through my head.
Ryker only grinned, the dark, knowing kind. The one that said he knew exactly where my mind had just gone.
Asshole.
I exhaled sharply, tearing my gaze away from both the snake and the man who was just as dangerous. “So, seven of you live here?”
Ryker nodded, but his expression shifted slightly, growing more serious. “We built Dominion Hall a few years ago. It’s not just a house—it’s headquarters.”
“For what?”
He held my gaze, unreadable. “The company.”
I frowned. “And what exactly does the company do?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer, his presence pressing into me without even touching me. “It’s not important.”
I swallowed. “Ryker?—”
“You didn’t come here to ask about business.”
The tension snapped tight between us, coiling like a wire ready to break.
No. I hadn’t. I’d come for him. Judging by the way his gaze dipped to my lips, by the way he stood so close I could feel the heat radiating off him, he knew it, too.
I hadn’t come here for answers about the company. I had come because I didn’t want to be alone.
Because with Will out of town, the city felt too quiet. Because Pia and Sasha were both at work, and the idea of sitting in my empty living room all day felt like it might crush me. I had other friends, sure, but they were more like acquaintances, the kind you grabbed drinks with but didn’t call when you felt untethered.
For a split second, I had even thought about driving to Sumter to see Aunt Maude, but that would have meant sitting at her kitchen table while she grilled me about Will—about where he was, what he was doing, if he was safe. Questions I didn’t have the answers to. Questions that would have made my chest tighten with the weight of everything I didn’t know about my own brother’s life.
So instead, I had come here.
I licked my lips, meeting Ryker’s eyes. “I didn’t want to be by myself today.”
His expression shifted. He exhaled through his nose, his gaze flicking over my face before dropping—just for a second—to the delicate slope of my bare collarbone. His voice was quieter when he spoke.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Isabel.”
Maybe not. But I felt like I needed to.
“I thought about visiting my aunt,” I admitted. “But I knew she’d ask about Will.” I let out a short, humorless laugh. “And what am I supposed to say? That I don’t even know what country my brother is in right now?”
Ryker’s jaw ticked. “She doesn’t need to know.”
I swallowed hard. “Yeah, well. She’d still ask.”
His eyes darkened. “You don’t like not knowing.”
It wasn’t a question.
“No,” I admitted. “I don’t.”
For a moment, we just stood there. Too close, too aware, too much unsaid.
Then—he moved.
A slow, deliberate shift, his palm grazing the small of my back as he led me down the hall. The touch was light, barely there, but electric. Like he was testing something. Like he was waiting for me to react.
God help me, I reacted.
A slow pulse of heat rolled through me, my skin prickling with awareness, my mind flashing back to the way his fingers had felt wrapped around my wrist yesterday—possessive, certain, unyielding.
I swallowed against the warmth blooming in my chest. “So where are we going?”
Ryker’s lips twitched like he knew exactly what I was doing—grasping for normalcy, for something to keep me grounded.
“Giving you the rest of the tour.”
His voice was smooth, unhurried, but his hand lingered for just a second longer before he let it fall away.
I exhaled.
Dominion Hall was even grander than I realized. Ryker led me through a sprawling sunroom that overlooked the harbor, the glass walls letting in the golden light of the morning. A sleek black grand piano sat in one corner, its glossy surface gleaming.
And then—the library.
I stopped short.
It was massive. Two stories of towering bookshelves, floor-to-ceiling, accessible by dark mahogany ladders that slid on brass rails. Plush leather chairs and velvet couches filled the space, the scent of aged paper, leather, and something faintly smoky curling through the air.
I turned to Ryker, brows lifted. “Do you even read?”
His mouth curled at the edges. “We all do.”
“All of you?” I gestured vaguely. “The seven of you?”
Ryker shrugged. “Most of us. Charlie probably just uses it to impress women.”
I snorted. “And you? ”
Something glinted in his eyes. Something amused, something knowing.
“I don’t need books to impress women, Isabel.”
The air crackled.
I should not have felt the heat rush to my face. I should have ignored the way my stomach dipped at his words, the way my body reacted to his voice alone.
But I couldn’t. And Ryker knew it. His gaze dropped. A flicker of something dark passed through his expression—something undeniably male, something predatory.
He took a step closer.
And then?—
“Ryker?”
The sound of another voice cut through the moment.
I startled, stepping back just as Marcus strode into the library, his sharp eyes flicking between us with too much awareness.
Whatever he saw in my face—or in Ryker’s—made his lips twitch slightly before his expression hardened.
“Something came up.” He didn’t elaborate. Didn’t need to. His gaze landed squarely on Ryker. “We need you.”
Ryker’s entire demeanor shifted. The teasing edge? Gone. His jaw tightened, the easy amusement in his eyes hardening.
He exhaled slowly, dragging a hand over his jaw before glancing at me.
“You staying?”
I hesitated.
I had come here for him.
But now, I wasn’t sure I was ready to leave .
“I—” I licked my lips, shifting on my heels. “I’ll probably head out soon.”
Ryker’s gaze held mine for a long moment. Then, finally, he nodded.
“Marcus will see you out if I’m not back.”
A dismissive statement. A finality I didn’t like.
But before I could respond, he was already gone—disappearing through the doors with Marcus, their voices low, clipped.
I exhaled, the silence of the library pressing in.