Chapter 11 - Dominic
The quiet of the house felt different, softer somehow, as I poured myself a cup of coffee. Without Lucy’s chatter or Mrs. Kensington bustling around, the kitchen seemed... too big, too still. It reminded me of the nights after long workdays when the house was quiet, but this silence felt less lonely. Maybe because I wasn’t entirely alone.
Emily stepped into the room, her presence like a gentle ripple breaking the surface of a still pond. She wasn’t wearing makeup, and her long hair was pulled back in one of those messy buns that somehow still looked perfect. The oversized sweater and jeans were a far cry from her polished work wardrobe, but there was something about the casual ease of it that made her even more captivating.
“Good morning,” she said, her voice warm but unsure, as though testing the waters.
“Morning,” I replied, leaning against the counter. I couldn’t help but remember the dinner earlier this week when she’d fit so seamlessly into the chaos of my family. She’d taken my brothers’ teasing in stride, even firing back her own quick comebacks like she’d known them for years.
After dinner, I’d overheard her apologizing to Axel, her voice soft but sincere. She’d admitted she’d been out of line for calling him a lapdog and that she regretted it. She didn’t need to, but she had anyway. It had meant something to her to get along with him. That realization stirred something in me, admiration, maybe. Or something deeper.
Her gaze swept the room, pausing here and there, on the empty coffee mugs in the sink, the neat stack of mail on the island, the book on the counter. When her eyes met mine, I felt it, a subtle shift.
“Where’s Mrs. Kensington?” she asked as she moved to the coffee pot, pouring herself a cup. Her hands were steady, but there was something hesitant about the way she asked like she was bracing herself for the answer.
“I gave her the weekend off,” I said simply. “Axel offered to take Lucy, so I thought Mrs. Kensington could use a break.”
Her fingers tightened on the mug for a fraction of a second. “Oh.” It was barely a sound, but I caught the flicker of something in her eyes, shock? Unease?
“How about we do something together today?” I suggested, keeping my tone light. “You know, as part of actually getting to know each other better.”
Her head tilted slightly, her guarded expression softening just a touch. “Like what?”
Before I could answer, her gaze lingered on the book sitting on the counter.
“What’s this?” she asked, picking it up and flipping through the pages. “Origami?”
“Yeah,” I said with a chuckle. “Axel dropped it off this morning when he picked up Lucy. She’s excited to try it, so I thought I’d learn a few designs. Figured it’d be something fun we could do together when she’s back tomorrow.”
Her lips curved in a small smile, her fingers brushing over a page with a paper frog. The way she looked at it, her face softening, stirred something in me.
“That’s... sweet,” she murmured, almost to herself.
“How about after breakfast?” I suggested. “We can give it a shot. See who’s the better paper-folder.”
Her gaze lifted to mine, her hesitation fading. “Sure,” she said, a little warmth creeping into her voice. “But just so you know, I dabbled in origami as a kid. I’m pretty sure I’ll be better at it than you.”
I raised a brow. “Is that so?”
“Absolutely,” she replied with a smirk. “Besides, with those manly hands, folding paper might be... challenging.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief, and I felt an unexpected rush of heat at the playful edge in her voice.
I chuckled, shaking my head. “So, you’ve noticed my manly hands.” I held them up, flexing my fingers. “Don’t let them fool you. They’re more capable than you think. I’m good at folding... certain things effortlessly.”
Her laugh was soft but genuine, and I caught the faint flush on her cheeks as she glanced back at the book.
When her eyes lifted to meet mine again, I couldn’t help but notice the way the warmth in her expression matched what I’d seen earlier that week at dinner. She’d been so at ease with my brothers, so genuine. That mattered to her. And, apparently, it mattered to me, too.
“Alright, Mr. Effortless,” she said, her tone teasing. “Those hands may be able to fold big things—but let’s see if those hands can handle folding a tiny piece of paper after breakfast.”
Her casual tone, paired with that mischievous glint in her eyes, sent my mind spiraling in ways it shouldn’t, surprising even me. The image of her, under the covers in my bed, that same soft smile still on her lips, made my pulse quicken. I caught myself, cursing inwardly, trying to shake off the thought I hadn’t meant to entertain.
As she turned and walked out, her every movement seemed to draw me in, leaving me with a buzz that traveled straight to my groin. I couldn’t ignore it, the heat rising in my chest and the tightness in my body.
What the hell had I been thinking, sending Lucy and Mrs. Kensington away for the weekend? Maybe I’d just made this a whole lot harder on myself.
After she left, I moved around the kitchen, my hands on autopilot, the rhythmic motion of whipping up pancakes oddly calming.
As the batter sizzled, the warm, sweet smell began to fill the air. I couldn’t help but smile—it was my mother’s secret recipe, one of the few things of hers I had left.
The sound of footsteps broke my focus. Emily reappeared in the doorway, her phone in hand and a coffee mug in the other. She paused, her nose twitching as the smell hit her.
“That smells nice,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“Thanks,” I replied, glancing her way. “It’s my mother’s secret recipe.”
Her expression softened as she stepped further into the room. “Your mother? I’ve never heard you talk about her.”
I nodded, flipping a pancake, though the ache in my chest threatened to grow. “That’s because both my parents passed away when I was twenty. It wasn’t easy... especially with five younger brothers depending on me.”
A pause stretched between us before Emily spoke, her voice quieter. “My mother passed away when I was just five. I barely remember her, but Dad gave me some of her pictures and jewelry to keep.”
I turned, my heart tightening at her words. I remembered her mother vividly—beautiful, full of life, and so deeply in love with Victor. Emily had just been born when I first met them, Victor beaming with pride. And then the accident… the news had hit me like a punch to the gut. I’d rushed to Victor’s side as soon as I could, but seeing him shattered had felt like losing her all over again.
Emily’s voice pulled me back. “How did you cope with it? Losing them both so suddenly?”
I swallowed hard, setting the spatula down. “It wasn’t easy. But you find a way to keep going, even when it doesn’t make sense.”
She nodded, her gaze thoughtful. “I guess having brothers helped. I always wanted a sibling, but Dad… he never thought he could fall in love again until he met Amber.”
There was a flicker of something in her tone—anger, maybe—but it faded as quickly as it came.
“Can I ask you a question? It’s sort of personal.” She looked a bit hesitant.
“Sure. How else can you get to know me if the questions aren’t personal.”
She nodded. “What happened to Lucy’s mom? Is she still in the picture?”
Emily must have seen the change in my face because she quickly stated, “If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s fine.”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “She stepped in as my PA for a while when Lila had surgery a few years ago. We started dating, and eventually, we got married. I thought she married me because she loved me. Then Victor discovered someone trying to transfer large sums of money from one of the accounts. It was her. Lucy was only a baby at the time. After that, Olivia vanished, and I haven’t seen her since.”
“I’m so sorry that she put you through that.” She covered my hand with hers.
“It’s ok. I’m over it now.”
There was a short silence between us before Emily spoke again.
“Do you need help with anything?” she asked, shifting the mood.
“Sure, why not? You can handle the bacon and eggs.”
Over the next fifteen minutes, we moved around the kitchen in sync. As we ate, our conversation drifted to lighter topics-favorite shows, and books that kept us up late.
Later, after cleaning up, we packed a picnic basket and headed outside. The sun filtered through the trees, casting playful shadows as we spread a blanket in the gazebo and placed the basket with fresh fruit, a bottle of non-alcoholic wine, and Lucy’s origami supplies on it.
Emily sat crisscrossed next to me, leaning forward slightly as she flipped absentmindedly through Lucy’s origami book. Her oversized sweater slipped off one shoulder, the loose neckline revealing the soft swell of her breast.
I tore my eyes away, clearing my throat, “So, are you ready to be schooled in the art of paper folding?”
She raised a skeptical brow. “Schooled? Please. I’ve got this.”
I chuckled as I took a sheet of paper. “Alright, Miss Expert. What are we starting with?”
She slid the book between us, her shoulder brushing mine as she leaned in closer. The scent of her shampoo, a tantalizing mix of citrus and something warm, like amber, wrapped around me, making it maddeningly hard to focus.
She pointed at the picture in the book. “Let’s keep it simple: a paper crane. Classic, elegant... easy.” Her voice was soft, almost velvety, and it pulled at something deep inside me.
I glanced up, and she was already looking at me, our faces so close I could see the faintest flecks of gold in her brown eyes, her lashes casting delicate shadows against her skin. My breath hitched as her gaze dipped, flickering to my lips for a heartbeat, a moment so brief I might’ve imagined it.
Her cheeks flushed as she shifted away, breaking the spell. The loss of her warmth left the space between us charged, my skin tingling where she’d brushed against me.
She turned to pour the wine, her movements deliberate, though her hand trembled slightly as she tilted the bottle. The clink of the glass against the bottle felt sharp in the quiet, and when she placed the plate of fruit between us, her fingers brushed mine.
She pulled away as if it burned, her shoulders stiffened as she settled beside me again with a piece of paper. Her fingers traced the edge of the book lightly as she scanned the instructions while I studied the pictures.
It was a simple crane. A child could probably do this in their sleep. How hard could it be?
We began to fold in silence. I tried to focus on the instructions in front of me, but the paper resisted me at every turn. The instructions might as well have been written in code. This wasn’t rocket science, so why did it feel like I was defusing a bomb?
Next to me, Emily’s fingers glided over the paper with precision, like she’d been born to fold it. I tried not to notice the way she always bit her lower lip when she was concentrating, a habit that should’ve been harmless but somehow felt distracting.
My grip tightened on the mangled paper as I glanced at her flawless creation, which seemed to mock me.
She made it all look so easy, and it wasn’t just the crane. From her PA role at the office, which I hadn’t thought she’d last more than a week in, to stepping seamlessly into the role of a stepmom like she was auditioning for Parent of the Year. Meanwhile, my crane was rapidly devolving into some unrecognizable disaster.
I sighed and her eyes flicked to my work.
“Everything ok?”
“Yeah, it’s fine.” I pressed my lips together, trying to keep my frustration at bay.
I could feel her eyes on me, but I didn’t look up. My pride prickling under her gaze. It wasn’t about the crane, not really. It was about her. About wanting to do something right in front of her, to impress her, and failing miserably.
“You do know you’re folding it the wrong way, right?” Her voice was soft but edged with amusement. “You’re supposed to bring the horizontal edges together, not the vertical ones.”
I shot her a look, holding up the mangled paper. “I tried that already, and it didn’t work. So I’m trying it a different way.”
Her laugh was soft, almost pitying, and it sent a jolt of irritation through me. “This is origami, Dominic. You can’t just ‘try a different way.’ There’s a right way.”
I crossed my arms, the paper crinkling in my grip. Her smug tone grated on my nerves, like I was some clueless idiot fumbling with a basic task. “Oh, really? Do you think I built a billion-dollar company by sticking to just ‘one way’? There’s no right way, just a way that works. Sometimes, you have to improvise.”
My voice came out sharper than I intended, and I caught the flicker of surprise in her eyes as she flinched. She recovered quickly, though, her composure slipping into place like armor. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, inhaling deeply, before fixing me with a steady gaze.
“This isn’t a billion-dollar company, Dominic. It’s a paper crane. And that way you tried? It’s clearly not working.” Her tone was calm, clipped, but there was an edge beneath it, like a challenge. She gestured to the crumpled mess in my hand, her lips pressed into a thin line. “If you actually followed the instructions, you’d end up with a crane instead of... whatever that is.” She gestured to my misshapen attempt before focusing on the final touches of her crane.
Why was she being so perfect at everything getting under my skin?
“Why do you think your way is the only way?”
Her head whipped toward me, her cheeks flushing as her eyes sparked with anger. “It’s not my way; it’s the right way. The book literally spells it out. But, of course, you have a problem with following instructions. It’s either your way or the highway.”
My jaw tightened. Her words weren’t the problem, it was the way her lips formed them, the way her eyes flashed, daring me to challenge her.
Well, you were the one who told her she shouldn’t be afraid to say what she means. Remember?
My eyes darkened. “You think you have me figured out, don’t you?”
She shifted on the blanket, folding her arms across her chest. Her chin jutted defiantly, her eyes sharp and unwavering. “Everyone has you figured out. You bulldoze your way through everything, business, relationships, life, and you’ll do anything to be in control.”
I leaned back slightly, bracing one hand against the blanket while the other rested on my knee. My gaze locked onto hers, my voice steady, trying to calm the anger rising to the surface. “Is that what you think?” I said smoothly, though the heat simmering beneath my tone was impossible to miss. “That I bulldoze my way through everything? Take what I want without a thought for anyone else?”
Her bitter laugh was sharp and cutting. “Mr. Quantum, did you think about me when you manipulated me into marrying you? Did you ever once stop to consider what I wanted? That at twenty, I might actually want to fall in love, have the wedding of my dreams, and live the life I planned?”
I clenched my jaw, fighting the sting of her words, as she stood up in one quick motion. “You know what? Agreeing to do this with you was a mistake.” She didn’t look back as she headed for the house, leaving me sitting there, with a bitter taste in my mouth.
“How did everything go so wrong?”
I watched her go, the sway of her hips more infuriating now than ever, and the tension in my chest burned hotter. My fingers curled into the blanket, wanting to go after her. To say something, anything, that would pull her back.
But I didn’t.