Chapter 35 Ryder
RYDER
Sunlight streams through the gaps in Dominic’s designer blinds, painting warm stripes across the tangled sheets. I blink awake, orienting myself in the massive California king bed that managed to fit all four of us last night.
My body aches pleasantly, a reminder of boundaries crossed and walls demolished.
Dom lies beside me, his normally stern expression softened in sleep, one arm possessively draped across Cora’s waist. On her other side, Liam’s chest rises and falls in the steady rhythm of deep sleep, his fingers intertwined with hers even in unconsciousness.
I prop myself up on one elbow, taking in the sight of them. It’s fucking surreal. Just over a week ago, we all wanted revenge against Mayor Pike, using his daughter as collateral damage. Now? Now I can’t imagine a morning without them.
Dominic stirs slightly, mumbling something in Spanish before settling deeper into the pillows. I can’t help but smile, remembering how he looked last night—completely undone, surrendering control in a way I never thought possible. The great Dominic Vega, letting Liam fuck him.
Jesus. The memory alone sends heat coursing through me.
It was more than just sex. When Dom asked Liam to fuck him, something shifted between us all. The rigid hierarchies we’d established—Dom always in charge, Liam playing both sides, me finding freedom in submission—dissolved into something fluid and honest.
Revenge was simple. This? This is complicated as hell.
I reach out, gently tracing the line of Dominic’s shoulder. This man, who planned Mayor Pike’s destruction, who orchestrated Cora’s humiliation without flinching, trembled for Liam last night with tears in his eyes. Not from pain—from release.
And Cora. This thing between us has outgrown its origin story. I tuck a strand of hair behind Cora’s ear, my chest tight with feelings I don’t have names for yet.
Dominic’s eyes flutter open suddenly, his body tensing. The vulnerability from last night evaporates instantly, replaced by something guarded and defensive. His jaw clenches as awareness returns, clearly remembering how he’d surrendered control.
“Morning,” I whisper, keeping my voice light, pretending I don’t notice how he’s practically vibrating with discomfort.
“Ryder.” His voice is a controlled rumble, too formal for someone whose cock plowed into my ass just last night.
I know that look. The same one a gambler gets after losing big—like they want to rewrite history, pretend it never happened. Dom’s building his walls back up brick by fucking brick right before my eyes.
“You sleep okay?” I ask, my fingers still tracing lazy patterns on his shoulder, refusing to acknowledge the tension radiating off him. With Dominic, pushing only makes him retreat further.
His eyes dart to Liam, then Cora, confirming they’re still asleep. “Fine,” he says, the word clipped.
“You were fucking beautiful last night,” I murmur, my honest nature incapable of dancing around what happened. “Never seen anything hotter than you letting go like that.”
His eyes narrow, but I don’t back down. Instead, I lean forward slowly, giving him plenty of time to pull away. When he doesn’t, I press my lips against his—gentle, nothing demanding.
For one terrible moment, he’s stone beneath my touch. Then something shifts, a nearly imperceptible softening. His lips move against mine, just barely, but it’s enough.
When I pull back, his eyes have lost that haunted look. He’s not completely comfortable, but the panic has receded.
“Coffee?” I offer, giving him the escape route I know he needs right now.
The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Black. No sugar.”
I slide out of bed, careful not to wake Liam and Cora, and head to the kitchen. Dominic follows, leaning against the marble counter while I brew his coffee. The familiar routine grounds me—grinding beans, heating water, the rich aroma filling the space between us.
“Figured I’d make everyone breakfast,” I say, pulling eggs and butter from Dominic’s ridiculously organized fridge. “You want an omelet? Got some prosciutto and that fancy cheese you like.”
Dom takes his coffee, nodding. “That works.”
The TV clicks on automatically as part of Dom’s morning automation system, blaring a news segment. Mayor Pike’s face fills the screen, his voice droning about “family values” and his gubernatorial campaign.
“Jesus, I can’t escape that asshole even at breakfast,” I mutter, cracking eggs into a bowl. I whisk them with practiced strokes, adding cream and herbs. Cooking has always been my therapy—something real and tangible when everything else feels uncertain.
Dom stands frozen, staring at Pike’s image. The kitchen feels charged with everything we’re not saying. Last night changed us. The four of us crossed a line that we can’t uncross, and I know Dom’s wrestling with it.
I slide the first omelet onto a plate and hand it to him, deliberately brushing my fingers against his. “It’s okay, you know. Whatever you’re feeling about last night.”
His jaw tightens. “I don’t need reassurance.”
“Maybe I do,” I counter. “Maybe I need to know we’re okay after what happened.”
The bedroom door opens before he can answer. Cora emerges wearing Dom’s discarded shirt, hair tousled from sleep. She walks straight to the remote and switches the TV off, silencing Pike mid-sentence.
“Not in our home,” she says, then smiles at the sight of breakfast. “Smells amazing.”
Liam appears behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Morning,” he says, meeting Dom’s eyes over her head. Something passes between them—acknowledgment, acceptance.
I flip the omelet, hiding my smile. Our home. Not Dom’s penthouse anymore. Ours.
“Coffee’s fresh,” I say, gesturing with my spatula. “Breakfast is almost ready.”
Liam pads into the kitchen in Dom’s black silk robe, his hair still damp from a quick shower. The robe hangs open just enough to show a strip of tanned skin down his chest. He heads straight for the coffee, moving with that easy confidence that makes my stomach flip.
“Morning, counselor,” I say, sliding an omelet onto a plate for him. “Sleep well?”
“Better than I have in years,” he admits, accepting the plate with a smile.
Cora follows behind him. She’s fastened only the middle few buttons on the shirt she’s wearing, leaving it gaping dangerously at her chest. No bra underneath—the morning chill makes that obvious.
“Coffee?” Dom asks her, already reaching for a mug.
“God, yes.” She accepts it gratefully, leaning against the counter.
Liam’s phone chimes with a notification. His expression darkens as he reads it.
“Pike’s moved again,” he says, turning the phone so we can all see. “He’s calling for an audit of all your businesses, Dom. And he’s filed a formal ethics complaint against me with the bar association, claiming conflict of interest with your real estate transactions.”
Dom’s jaw tightens. “Fucking bastard.”
I set down my spatula. “You know what? We’ve been playing defense since this whole thing started. Maybe it’s time we hit back.”
Three pairs of eyes turn to me.
“Think about it. Dom, you’ve got connections in every elite circle in this city. Liam, you know the legal system inside out. Cora understands how her father operates better than anyone. And I’m pretty good at finding patterns where others see chaos.”
I look at each of them, feeling something click into place. “Together, we’re fucking unstoppable. Pike doesn’t stand a chance if we coordinate.”
Cora straightens, something fierce flashing in her eyes. “You’re right. I’m done being his victim or his pawn.”
“A coordinated approach could work,” Liam says, setting his coffee down. “I’ve been collecting evidence of Pike’s corruption for years.”
Dom’s expression shifts from anger to calculation. “My media contacts could be useful once we have something solid.”
“So, we’re doing this?” I ask. “All of us? Together?”
Dom sets his coffee down, his expression. “Together,” he agrees, the word carrying more weight than just our plan against Pike.
Cora reaches across the counter and takes my hand, then Dominic’s. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m grateful for the Hunt.” Her eyes are bright with emotion. “Not for how it ended, but for where it’s brought us.”
Liam circles around, completing our little circle by placing his hand on Dom’s shoulder. “I’ve spent my entire career building walls to keep people out. Didn’t expect to find myself here.” He looks at each of us. “I’m not in this for revenge anymore.”
The admission hangs in the air between us, honest and exposed. I feel my chest tighten with something that goes way beyond desire or convenience.
“Well, shit,” I laugh, trying to lighten the intensity while my heart pounds. “Are we having feelings at breakfast now? Because I didn’t sign up for that.”
But I did. I fucking did.
Dom surprises me by reaching over to brush his thumb across my bottom lip. “You’re a terrible liar, Ryder.”
“Yeah,” Cora smiles, leaning into me. “We can see right through you.”
Liam shifts closer too, his arm sliding around Dom’s waist in a gesture that would’ve been unthinkable days ago. “Face it, we’re stuck with each other now.”
I look at each of them, and somehow, inexplicably, I fit with them. We all fit together.
“Fine,” I admit. “I guess revenge makes strange bedfellows.”
This wasn’t the plan. None of this was the fucking plan.
We were supposed to use Cora, break her, and destroy Pike through her. Instead, we’re standing in Dom’s kitchen making fucking breakfast together like a... family? The word feels dangerous even in my thoughts.
I’ve spent my life calculating odds, reading people, and finding the angle. It’s how I survived after Pike’s anti-gambling initiatives crushed my business. It’s how I’ve always operated—know when to hold, know when to fold, know when to walk away.
But there’s no walking away from this. Not anymore.
The way Dom looked last night when he finally let go. The sound Liam made when he came. The trust in Cora’s eyes when she fell asleep between us. They’re all burned into me now. Permanent.
And it terrifies me. Because Pike is coming for us with everything he has. The man destroys what he can’t control, and right now, his daughter is beyond his reach for the first time. He won’t stop until he breaks this thing between us.
These people weren’t supposed to matter to me. This was just meant to be revenge with benefits.
But watching them now—Dom’s daddy energy, Liam’s protective stance, Cora’s defiant strength—I realize I’d tear the world apart to keep them safe. All of them.
Fuck. I’m in deeper than I thought.