12. Dominic
Dominic
P rotecting Lena is turning out to be a hell of a lot more demanding than I expected. I need to know how Anton got into the hotel. The audacity is off the charts. He’s either running on pure desperation or still convinced he’s untouchable, because he always gets away with it.
We’re silent as the elevator hums to life beneath us. Her body is warm against mine.
“You can put me down,” Lena murmurs as the elevator rises.
“You’re barefoot.”
Her heels are still back in that room where she and Anton clashed. The hotel floors are covered in plush carpet and polished tiles, so she’ll be fine, but I like holding her close. I’ll take any excuse to keep her in my arms.
Seeing her on the floor when I walked in—God, that wrecked me.
I never should’ve listened to her. I should’ve had Damien tail Anton from day one.
I should’ve filed charges, made his life, and his family’s, a nightmare.
But Lena has a plan. She’s worked hard for it.
It’s her mission, her fight. I want to respect that.
I do. But this escalated. And not in a way I can ignore anymore.
“Dominic,” she says, glancing up at me as we step out onto the suite floor. “I hit him. Really hard. And in that moment... I wanted to. That’s what scares me. I didn’t hold back, and now I feel sick. That’s not who I am. Or at least I thought it wasn’t.”
“He deserved it,” I say, without letting my voice shake. “Don’t overthink it. I’ll make you a drink when we get to the apartment. Something to take the edge off. The adrenaline’s fading, you’re just coming off the rush. You’ll be okay.”
I open the door to our suite and go toward the main bedroom, still carrying her.
“What are you doing?” she mumbles, eyes half-closed. “Please take me to my room. I’m exhausted. I just want to lie down.”
“It’s our wedding night, brave girl. You’re not sleeping alone. Not after tonight.”
“I don’t know what you think is about to happen,” she mutters, “but I can barely feel my arms.”
She’s heavier in my arms now, like all the tension’s drained out at once. She’s no longer fighting it. She’s just soft. Fragile. She’s trembling slightly, not from cold, but from the quiet aftershock. Her breath’s shallow, uneven. Classic crash after adrenaline.
Even though she looks completely drained, she still clings to that last scrap of control.
“Let me get you out of this dress and into our bed. You’re sleeping here tonight. I need to know you’re safe, that you’re breathing easy. I want you close, so I can hold you if anything feels too heavy.”
Her eyes flicker for a second, uncertain, then she rests her head against my shoulder. In the bedroom, I lower her gently onto the massive bed and kneel in front of her. I reach for the lamp, but she stops me with a soft touch.
“No lights. Please.”
I stand and draw the curtains open instead, letting the night spill in just enough to cast soft shadows across her skin.
The city flickers faintly outside. I come back to her and slowly ease one strap of her dress down, then the other.
She moves with me, just enough to help, letting the fabric slide down her arms.
The silk rustles as it pools at her waist. Her nipples tighten in the cool air, but she doesn’t cover herself.
The perfect curves of her breasts glow in the soft darkness, her skin luminous against the shadows.
Her eyes stay locked on mine, unflinching, and the faintest smile touches her lips.
She stays just like that, her hands resting softly on the bed, letting me look at her.
Her scent wraps around me—warm, sweet, all skin and something I can’t quite name, but feel all the way in my chest. My heartbeat kicks hard.
It takes everything I have not to move, not to reach for more.
I kneel again and ease the dress down her legs.
She lifts slightly to help, and the fabric falls to the floor in a soft whisper.
I lift her slowly to her feet, pulling her against me, fully aware of her bare skin pressed to mine. She’s wearing nothing but a tiny pair of panties, the necklace I gave her, and the rings that mark her as a wife. My wife.
I wasn’t ready for it, this rush of possession and desire, the sheer weight of knowing that, starting today, she’s mine.
Truly mine. She loops her arms around my neck and closes the distance.
Her body pressed against mine, and there’s no hiding what she’s doing to me.
My chest tightens, heartbeat thudding like it’s trying to keep up.
“You’re insanely beautiful,” I whisper, brushing my lips over her ear. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold back.”
I feel her exhale. A soft sound, somewhere between a sigh and a moan. Pleasure. Exhaustion. Need. Maybe all of it, tangled together.
Her fingers slide into my hair, like she’s grounding herself.
In the quiet dark, everything sharpens. Her uneven breath.
The heat coming off her skin. The way her body settles into mine, like it was always meant to be there.
I press my lips to her cheek, slowly trailing toward the corner of her mouth.
I pause for a heartbeat, hovering close.
I’ve imagined this so many times, but nothing feels like this moment.
Then I kiss her. She freezes, just for a breath, long enough to make me think she might pull away.
But then she melts into me with a trembling sigh, her lips parting under mine, welcoming me in.
Our tongues meet, tentative at first, then deeper, hungrier.
Like we’ve both been starving for this. She moans and wraps one leg around me.
I grip her ass and pull her closer, never breaking the kiss.
She clings to me, fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me deeper into her mouth.
I bite her lip, then suck on it, tasting her, claiming her.
That sharp mouth, always full of fire, is now soft, open, giving.
For a few perfect seconds, we’re completely lost in each other.
Then she pulls back, slightly. Her breath comes fast, her lips wet from mine, her eyes still closed.
“Lay me down,” she whispers, her voice trembling.
I lower her gently onto the sheets. I kneel beside her, cupping her breasts in my hands. They fill my palms perfectly, warm and soft. I want to taste them. Her moans deepen as my mouth moves up her stomach, trailing upward, slowly. Her body arches into me, every movement asking for more.
I pause to look at her in the soft darkness.
She’s open in a way I’ve never seen. Exposed, vulnerable, beautiful.
I bury my face in her neck, trying to slow everything down, to stretch out this moment where no words are needed.
We speak through touch. Want pulses between us like breath.
Then Lena reaches up, finds my face, and gently lifts it to hers.
I lean in, hungry for another kiss. Another taste.
I cup her cheeks, and feel it. The warmth of her tears.
Her body trembles beneath mine. She turns slightly, eyes still closed. She’s crying.
What the hell did I do?
“Baby... what happened?” I switch on the bedside lamp.
Lena turns slightly, shielding her eyes with one hand, the other crossing over her chest to cover herself. I shut the light off just quickly and stay by the bed, giving her space.
“I’m sorry. I went too far. We didn’t talk about this.”
“It’s not that,” she whispers, her voice cracking as she curls into herself. “It’s not you,” she says again, softer this time. “It’s too much. I can’t explain it right now.”
I stand there, helpless, watching her as she pulls the sheets up over her body and buries her face in the pillow.
The woman from just moments ago, open and hungry for me, has vanished.
It feels deeper than exhaustion. Like something buried long before tonight.
It’s something deeper. Something raw. And I hate that I might’ve touched a wound I didn’t even know was there.
It hurts to see her like this, curled up and shutting down. And I’m scared to go any closer. Scared to reach for her. So I give her space. It’s all I can do now. And hope she trusts me enough to come back when she’s ready.
“I’ll bring you something strong to drink. Then I’ll head downstairs and say goodbye to the guests for both of us. I’ll be right back. And if you want to talk... I’ll be here.”
She doesn’t answer. She just breathes, uneven and quick, under the covers.
I walk out to the living room and pour her a glass of whiskey.
I don’t even know if she likes whiskey. But maybe it’ll help.
Even just a sip. I moved too fast. I thought she wanted it, too.
Her body did. I know what it looks like when a woman wants me.
But that doesn’t mean she was ready. She’s vulnerable. She’s been through hell tonight.
I should’ve slowed down. Should’ve paid more attention. God, what the hell is wrong with me?
Back in the room, she’s still curled up under the sheets. I set the glass down on the nightstand without a sound, then sit on the edge of the bed. I brush her hair back gently, fingers barely touching. I wish I could say something. But I don’t. It breaks my heart to see her like this.
So I stand and walk out, making my way downstairs. The party’s still going, even though it’s well past midnight. I step onto the stage and take the mic. The music fades slightly, and faces start to turn.
“On behalf of myself and my beautiful wife, thank you all for being here tonight.” That gets some clapping.
“We’re off to enjoy our wedding night.” A few cheers and whistles follow.
“You’re in good hands. The hotel staff will make sure your glasses stay full, and the band won’t stop as long as there’s someone on the dance floor.”
“Where’s the bride, Monti?” someone shouts from the crowd. Drunk. Trying to stir something.
I grab a glass of champagne from a passing tray and raise it. “My wife’s waiting for me,” I say, smiling. “And trust me, you don’t keep a bride waiting on her wedding night. Cheers, everyone.”
I set the mic down and walk off to a round of applause.
The band picks up again. People start dancing, laughing like nothing happened.
A few guests pull me in for hugs and congratulations, which only makes the minutes drag.
All I can think about is getting back upstairs.
Having her in my arms again. Making sure she’s okay.
I’m not the kind of man who can’t control himself.
And I certainly don’t make love to women who are crying in my arms.
Monti, you idiot. On your wedding night, of all nights.
Lexi and Gabriel catch up to me. “Is Lena okay?” Lexi asks, concern in her eyes.
“She’s asleep. I’m heading back up to sit with her. Please stay here and help Leo and Alice wrap up the party.” Gabriel nods, pulling Lexi gently with him as they walk out.
Leo joins me by the elevator. “Anton came in with the Mayor. That’s how he got through without anyone stopping him. I’m sorry. I’ll deal with the staff,” he says.
“No. Let everyone enjoy the night. This is still a celebration. We’ll deal with that bastard tomorrow.
Go back to the University Campus and start asking questions.
I’ll also follow up on whatever Damien or Gabriel finds.
The Mayor has already asked to speak to Lena.
We’re shutting this down soon. And Anton won’t like how it ends. Where is he now?”
“He left. His bodyguards dragged him out. He didn’t look good.”
“My Lena’s fearless. But Anton’s ruthless. He’ll want revenge after the humiliation he suffered tonight. We need eyes on her at all times. Even when she’s with me. No exceptions. Please, Leo.”
He nods and walks off.
Back in the apartment, I take off my jacket and shoes in the living room before walking into the bedroom.
Lena’s lying on the bed, covered by the sheets, facing the window.
Her breathing is steady. The glass is empty.
She took my advice. Her bare shoulder peeks out from under the sheets.
My wife. I’ve seen women sleep naked beside me before.
But this this feels different. It fills me. Anchors me. Shakes me.
I lie down next to her, on top of the sheets, still fully dressed, and pull her gently into my arms. I don’t want to cross a line, not after earlier.
But I can’t leave her alone tonight. My hands still burn from the memory of her skin.
I want her. But I’ll give her all the time she needs.
Every bit of patience I’ve got, until she wants me, too.
And when she does, I’ll be right here. Ready to give her everything she asks for, in this massive bed that finally feels like ours.
What a night. I stood up in front of a ballroom full of people and introduced her as my wife.
God, that felt good. Better than I ever expected.
I felt every second of it… her hand in mine, her body pressed to me as we danced.
The way she looked at me, like she didn’t care about anyone else in that room.
For a few perfect moments, it all felt real.
Like this wasn’t some arrangement we planned, but something we built together.
And then Anton showed up and shattered that peace like glass under his boot.
Even after all of it, despite the damage, she’s still here.
Still, my wife. And I feel it now more than ever.
The weight of what that means. Not just legally.
Not just in front of a crowd. I want to protect her from everything.
Even the things she doesn’t say out loud.
Whatever we wrote in that contract, it’s not enough.
I’ll give her more. All of me, if that’s what it takes. Because this woman in my arms is not just the bride I introduced tonight. She’s the future I never knew I wanted. Until now.