Chapter 39 Cora
CORA
My reflection stares back at me in the full-length mirror—emerald dress hugging every curve, hair swept into an elegant updo, diamond earrings catching the light. I look composed, polished. No one would guess my heart’s hammering against my ribcage.
“You look stunning.” Dom appears behind me, sliding his hands around my waist. His custom tuxedo makes him look even more powerful than usual.
“I’m terrified.” The admission slips out before I can stop it.
“We don’t have to go,” he says, but we both know that’s not true.
This charity gala is my father’s annual flagship event—the one he uses to cement his image as the city’s moral compass.
My attendance tonight with Dom, while Ryder and Liam accompany us as a couple, is nothing short of a declaration of war.
“Yes, we do.” I turn to face him. “I’m just—”
“Scared of people judging you?” Ryder appears in the doorway, adjusting his cufflinks. “Join the club.”
Liam follows, looking devastating in his tux. “Your father’s already painted us as the villains who corrupted his innocent daughter. This isn’t going to be pretty.”
“I know.” I smooth my hands over my dress. “But I’m tired of letting him control the narrative.”
Dom kisses my temple. “Remember the plan. I’m your boyfriend. Ryder and Liam are the couple who happen to share our living arrangement for convenience.”
“Which isn’t entirely untrue,” Liam adds with a smirk.
“It’s nobody’s business what happens behind closed doors,” Dom reminds us.
Ryder hands me my clutch. “Ready to face the wolves?”
My stomach twists, but then Dom’s hand settles on my lower back, Liam gives me a reassuring nod, and Ryder winks. Something settles in me—the realization that for the first time, I’m not walking into one of these events alone and unprotected.
“Yes,” I say, straightening my shoulders. “Let’s show them what we’re made of.”
Dom’s sleek black Bentley waits outside, its engine purring softly. As we slide into the spacious back seat, Ryder pulls me onto his lap instead of letting me take my own seat.
“The dress is too beautiful to wrinkle,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear.
I settle against him, watching as Liam takes the middle seat and Dom slides in last, closing the door behind him. The tinted windows seal us into our own private world, and the privacy screen means even the driver can’t see us.
“Twenty-minute drive,” Dom says.
Ryder’s hands immediately find their way to my thighs, tracing circles on the exposed skin where my dress has ridden up. His other arm wraps around Liam, pulling him closer until their shoulders press together.
“Nervous?” Liam asks, reaching over to intertwine his fingers with mine.
“A little,” I admit.
Ryder nips playfully at my neck. “Don’t be. We’ve got you.”
His hand slides up Liam’s thigh now, making him inhale sharply. Dom watches with dark eyes, his jaw tightening with arousal.
“Behave,” Dom warns, though his voice lacks conviction.
Ryder smirks. “That’s rich coming from you.”
Dom’s hand finds my knee, his thumb stroking small circles that send shivers up my spine. The four of us are connected by touch, the air heavy with unspoken desire.
When the car finally rolls to a stop, camera flashes already visible through the tinted windows, Dom straightens his tie and turns to us with a serious expression.
“Remember, Cora and I are together. Ryder and Liam are a couple. We’re friends who live together. No touching beyond what friends would do once we’re in public. Save the rest for home.” His eyes move over each of us purposefully. “Understood?”
“Yes, Daddy,” we respond in unison.
The driver opens the door, and the world outside rushes in—camera flashes, distant murmurs, the soft orchestral music drifting from the venue.
Dom steps out first, extending his hand to help me emerge from the car.
The towering doors of the Regal Hotel ballroom loom before us, gold-trimmed and imposing. My grip on Dom’s arm tightens until my knuckles turn white. Somewhere in that sea of tuxedos and evening gowns, my father waits.
“You’re cutting off my circulation,” Dom murmurs, but his hand covers mine reassuringly.
“Sorry,” I whisper, loosening my grip. “I haven’t seen him since...”
Since he watched me being used as a pawn in a revenge plot, since he stormed out of Purgatory, his face twisted with disgust and rage.
Dom’s jaw tightens. “You don’t owe him anything, Cora.”
We step through the threshold together, Liam and Ryder close behind us. The ballroom is a glittering marvel of crystal chandeliers and champagne towers. Heads turn our way immediately—some curious, some scandalized, all judgmental.
I spot my father across the room, surrounded by his usual entourage. His eyes lock with mine for a split second before he deliberately turns away, whispering something to Senator Hardwick beside him. The rejection stings, but I’m surprised to find it doesn’t devastate me.
“Drink?” Ryder offers, appearing at my side with two champagne flutes.
I accept gratefully, taking a generous sip as Councilman Jenkins approaches us. His face, usually so friendly at my father’s events, is pinched with disapproval.
“Miss Pike,” he says, pointedly ignoring Dom. “Your father was quite shocked to see your name on the guest list. This is hardly appropriate after your... situation.”
The old Cora would have mumbled an apology. The old Cora would have wilted under his judgment.
I take another sip of champagne, letting the bubbles strengthen my resolve.
“Councilman,” I reply, my voice steady. “I’m exactly where I belong—supporting a worthy charity while in the company of people I care about.” I place my hand firmly on Dom’s chest, a clear statement. “I’m sure my father understands the importance of standing by one’s convictions.”
The councilman’s eyes widen slightly. “Your father has spent years building his reputation—”
“On lies,” I finish for him. “And I’m no longer participating in them. Please give him my regards.”
As the councilman hurries away, Dom pulls me close, his lips brushing my ear. “Fuck, baby girl, that was sexy seeing you stand up for yourself.” His hand slides possessively to my lower back, thumb tracing circles against the fabric of my dress.
“Was it?” I’m still trembling, adrenaline coursing through me.
“Very.” He presses a kiss to my temple, exactly the way a devoted boyfriend would. Not the calculated revenge-seeker who once hunted me through Purgatory’s maze, but a man proud of the woman on his arm.
Across the room, my father continues his deliberate performance of not seeing me.
He laughs too loudly at something the mayor of Westbridge says, his back carefully turned in our direction.
For the first time, his rejection doesn’t feel like a knife twisting in my chest. I turn away, mirroring his indifference.
“Dance with me,” Dom says, taking my champagne flute and setting it aside.
The orchestra plays a slow, elegant piece as he guides me to the dance floor. His hand settles at my waist, warm and secure. Ryder and Liam have found their way to the dance floor, too, moving together with surprising grace.
“Look at them,” I murmur, watching Liam whisper something that makes Ryder throw his head back with genuine laughter.
"Look at you," Dom counters, spinning me gently. "You're glowing tonight."
For once, I feel it. Not the rigid, practiced poise my father demanded, but something warmer, more authentic. I catch glimpses of myself in the mirrored columns around the ballroom—cheeks flushed, eyes bright, moving with genuine joy.
I realize with startling clarity that I've stopped seeing myself through my father's critical eyes.
No longer measuring my worth against his impossible standards or shrinking myself to avoid his disapproval.
Instead, I see the woman Dom calls "baby girl" with reverence, the one Ryder watches with tender devotion, the one Liam challenges and respects in equal measure.
"Thank you," I whisper against Dom's chest as we sway together.
"For what?"
"For helping me find myself again." I tilt my head back to meet his gaze. "For showing me what it means to be valued instead of controlled."
His arms tighten around me, pulling me closer as the music swells. "You did that yourself, Cora. We just gave you the space to bloom."
Over his shoulder, I catch sight of my father again. He's watching us now, his face a mask of barely contained rage as he sees me dancing, smiling, radiating happiness in the arms of one of the men he despises most.
And for the first time in my life, his disapproval doesn't touch me.
"He's staring," I murmur to Dom.
"Let him." Dom's hand slides possessively to my lower back. "Let him see exactly how little power he has over you now."
The song ends, and Dom leads me back to where Ryder and Liam wait with fresh champagne. As I accept the glass, I realize something profound has shifted tonight. I'm not hiding anymore. Not apologizing for my choices or my happiness.
"To new beginnings," Liam toasts, his eyes warm as they meet mine.
"To freedom," Ryder adds.
"To us," Dom finishes.
Our glasses clink together, and as I sip the expensive champagne, I catch my reflection one more time in the mirrored wall. The woman staring back at me is fierce, confident, and completely unashamed.
She's everything my father tried to destroy.
And she's never been more alive.