Chapter 13
Dominic
He watched the entrance to Knox’s building from his parked car, engine running.
Knox knew to be ready at nine. The text Dominic had sent the night before gave him little beyond that, just enough to make it clear he was expected outside on time. He didn’t think the boy would keep him waiting. Fear would make sure of that. So would curiosity.
At exactly nine, Knox stepped out of the building with his hood pulled up, his gaze immediately scanning the block in that observant way Dominic had come to recognize. It took him only a second to spot the car. He crossed the street with purpose before slipping into the passenger seat.
He hadn’t seen much of him lately. First, he’d sent him to Cassian for training, making sure he learned how to defend himself better. After that, Dominic had kept him occupied with smaller tasks, simple runs that required little more than following instructions and keeping his mouth shut.
Not because Knox wasn’t capable of more.
But because Dominic still hadn’t decided exactly what to do with him.
There was something about the boy that refused to settle neatly into place.
Knox remained frustratingly difficult to define, and Dominic disliked uncertainty in any form.
So he had done what he always did with complications.
He created distance. Or at least, that had been the plan.
The last time he’d seen Knox face to face had been at the club, the day he’d taken Missy into the back room to prove something to himself.
To prove that he was still in control. That some boy with pale blue eyes and a smart mouth hadn’t managed to unravel him.
He’d told himself it worked, right up until it was over and his feet had carried him straight to where Knox was sitting, like fucking her had accomplished nothing at all.
He hadn’t even managed to keep his hands to himself, touching the boy within minutes of sitting down.
It should have humiliated him, how little control he’d actually had in that moment.
Knox had become an irritatingly persistent presence in his thoughts, surfacing at moments when his attention belonged elsewhere.
More than once, he had called him directly under the excuse of giving instructions or checking on some meaningless task that could just as easily have been handled through one of his men.
Keeping him at arm’s length had done nothing to resolve the matter. If anything, it had made the question Knox represented more pronounced. Distance, clearly, was no longer the solution.
The engine idled beneath them as Dominic shifted the car into gear and pulled away from the curb. He didn’t explain where they were going, just let the silence hang and the city slip past.
Twenty minutes later, they pulled into the garage of his warehouse. Knox followed without needing to be told, trailing a step behind as they passed security and made their way down to the basement. Knox remained quiet, but his gaze moved constantly, cataloguing everything around him.
At the end of the hallway, Cassian waited outside a closed door, arms crossed over his chest, one shoulder braced against the wall. “You brought him?” Cassian asked, a crooked grin tugging at his mouth.
Dominic ignored it. “All set?”
Cassian nodded, his amusement fading. “They’re inside.”
Knox glanced between them, suspicion sharpening his expression. “What’s going on?”
Dominic paused, searching Knox’s face for a moment. “A test.”
Knox frowned.
“For them,” Dominic clarified. “Not you. But I want you watching.”
“What kind of test?”
Dominic held his gaze. “A crew stole from me. Cassian tracked them down.”
Understanding flickered across Knox’s face, followed quickly by unease.
“There are five men behind that door,” Dominic continued. “I want to know who understood what they were doing, who was simply following orders, who knew exactly whose territory they were stepping into, and who’s stupid enough to lie about it.”
Knox blinked, caught off guard. “What do you want me to do?”
“Watch. Listen.” Dominic stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Tell me who you think is lying.”
Knox stared at him. “You want my judgment?”
“You’re observant,” Dominic said. “You read people well. Better than most.”
It was true.
Cassian opened the door. The smell hit first. The stink of sweat and fear was sharp enough to taste.
The room was harshly lit, stripped bare except for five metal chairs in a row.
The men sat side by side, wrists cuffed tight with plastic zip ties that had rubbed the skin raw, ankles secured to the chair legs.
Two of Dominic’s security men stood silently at the back wall, watching without expression.
Dominic stepped inside and nodded for Knox to follow. “Don’t talk unless I tell you to.”
No one spoke. Dominic let the hush stretch, watching each face. Fear thrived in silence. Men often revealed themselves faster when forced to sit with it.
Knox hovered just inside the door, uncertain where exactly he belonged in this room, before stepping farther inside. Not quite a participant, but not just an observer either.
Cassian started. “You all know why you’re here.” His voice was calm, almost conversational. “You work for Mercer. You touched something that didn’t belong to you. This is your opportunity to be honest.”
A big man with a busted nose tried to meet Dominic’s eyes. “Nobody told us who owned it. We just did the job.”
Another, thin, twitchy guy kept his eyes locked on the floor. “Mercer said we’d get paid double if we kept quiet.”
Cassian circled the room. “And you all just followed along without asking questions?”
Dominic remained beside Knox as Cassian continued the questioning.
The room had shifted. The men were beginning to fracture under pressure, each response changing the atmosphere by degrees—tiny cracks widening with every contradiction, every hesitation, every glance exchanged between them.
Cassian ran through names, timelines, details, forcing them to repeat themselves until inconsistencies surfaced.
Dominic let him work. He had no need to rush this.
He watched, letting Cassian’s words echo and the men’s nerves unravel.
All the while he tracked Knox. He could see the way the boy’s shoulders tensed when someone lied.
The way his eyes narrowed when another stuttered or stumbled over an answer.
This was unfamiliar territory for him, and yet he didn’t shrink away from it. Interesting.
After three more rounds of denials, Dominic leaned closer. “What do you see?”
Knox hesitated before lifting his chin toward one of the men. “The skinny one. He knows more than he’s saying.”
“Why?”
“He keeps answering too fast. Before Cassian even finishes the question. Like he has prepared what he’s gonna say.”
Dominic gave a small nod. “And him?”
Knox’s gaze shifted toward the man seated at the far left. “That one’s scared,” he whispered. “But not just of you. He keeps looking at the others. Like he’s afraid one of them’s going to say something that gets him killed.”
A surprisingly insightful read.
Cassian slammed a hand against the wall. “We’re not here to play games. If any of you want to walk out of here breathing, now’s the moment to stop being stupid.”
That was all it took. One of them cracked first. Words spilled out in a desperate rush, accusations turning wild and frantic as he tried to redirect blame. Another shouted over him. A third denied everything louder than before.
The room splintered. Fear had finally done its work. Dominic watched Knox absorb it all—the ugly desperation of men realizing their options had run out.
“You see it now, don’t you?” Dominic murmured close to Knox’s ear. “Who’s bluffing. Who’s close to breaking.”
Knox kept his eyes on the men as the room descended into panic, his face pale but focused. After a moment, he gave a tight nod. “Yeah.”
Dominic straightened, watching him for another second before making his next move. “Sort them.”
Knox recoiled before turning to him. “What?”
“You heard me. Decide. Tell me who’s lying and who’s telling the truth. If you’re unsure, say so.”
For the first time since entering the room, genuine alarm broke through Knox’s composure. His gaze snapped back to the restrained men. “I—What happens to them?”
Cassian answered for him. “Those who knowingly stole from Dominic pay with their lives. That’s how this works.”
Whatever uncertainty remained among the captives shattered all at once.
“No—”
“Please, I swear—”
“I didn’t know—”
The desperate overlapping voices bounced off the walls. Knox’s face tightened. “What happens if I get it wrong?”
Dominic held his gaze, refusing to soften the reality of what was happening, but equally unwilling to let Knox shoulder responsibility that wasn’t his. “That’s not your burden. The decision is mine. I’m asking for your instincts.”
Knox swallowed hard, his throat working visibly. He pointed to one of the men. “The blond one. I… I think he’s lying.”
Cassian watched the man for a second, then nodded once. “I agree.”
“And him?” Dominic asked, indicating the older man.
Knox studied him longer. “I think he’s telling the truth. He looks confused. Like he genuinely didn’t know what he got dragged into.”
Dominic studied the man, weighing Knox’s words, then glanced at Cassian, who gave a small, noncommittal shrug. “He’s been saying the same thing since we picked him up. Could be.”
One by one, Knox worked through the others, each answer coming a little easier than the last, though the strain still showed in the sweat gathering at his temples. Dominic listened closely, less interested in whether Knox was perfectly right than in how he reached his conclusions.
His instincts were good. Better than good.
Cassian pressed one man again, dismantling his story piece by piece until the truth surfaced. When Cassian stepped back, the outcome was set. Three had known exactly whose operation they were interfering with. Two had simply been stupid enough to follow orders without asking questions.