Chapter 33
Dominic
The knife moved in steady strokes as he sliced through a bell pepper. The pan was heating behind him, oil shimmering across the surface before he tipped the vegetables in, the scent rising instantly. Bread went into the toaster next.
What the hell am I doing?
The question had been circling since he’d stepped into the kitchen. Knox was still asleep in his bed—his bed—while he was making breakfast.
For him.
He dragged a hand down his face as he stirred the vegetables. He’d made decisions that shaped entire territories, that dictated the rise and fall of men who thought they were untouchable. He had never hesitated. Never second-guessed.
But this? Standing in his kitchen at seven in the morning making eggs for a boy asleep in his sheets felt reckless in a way he didn’t have a word for.
It wasn’t the kind of reckless that got people killed, but the kind that slipped under your guard.
Personal. Dangerous in a way that couldn’t be solved with a phone call or a bullet.
He cracked the eggs against the edge of the pan with more force than necessary.
“Didn’t take you for the domestic type. Who’s the second plate for?”
Dominic’s hand stilled. His irritation flared—not at the question, but at himself. He hadn’t heard Cassian come in. That didn’t happen. “Cassian,” he greeted.
His cousin walked in the way he always did: uninvited and entirely too observant. He leaned against the counter, taking in the scene with a knowing look that made Dominic want to throw something at him.
“Eggs?” Cassian tilted his head. “Is that bacon too?”
Dominic shot him a look. “Don’t touch that.”
Cassian grabbed a piece anyway, biting into it with a grin. “You’re cooking for someone and you’re territorial about bacon? Who are you, and what did you do with my cousin?”
Dominic turned back to the stove, sliding the eggs with the spatula. “What do you want?”
“Came to talk about Mercer,” Cassian said, chewing. “But now?” His grin widened. “Now I’m more interested in whatever the hell this is.”
Dominic didn’t respond.
Cassian’s gaze drifted toward the bedroom door. “She still here?” A beat. “Or should I say he? Either way—didn’t think you were the sleepover type.”
Dominic’s jaw ticked. “Watch it.”
Cassian snorted. “Right. So you’re just making breakfast out of the goodness of your heart?”
“I don’t have a heart,” Dominic said, pulling the toast free.
“Yeah, I’ve noticed.” Cassian gestured vaguely. “Which is why this is… new.”
A soft sound came from across the loft. Both of them looked.
Knox stepped into the open space like he didn’t fully realize where he was yet.
Sleep still clung to him: hair messy, eyes heavy, movements slower than usual.
He was wearing one of Dominic’s shirts, the fabric hanging loose on his frame. Bare legs. Bare feet.
Dominic’s mind went blank.
Mine.
That thought had started appearing far too often. When had that become a thing? More importantly, why the fuck hadn’t it stopped?
Knox stopped when he noticed Cassian, his body going a fraction more alert. “Uh.” He ran a hand through his hair, glancing between them. “Morning.”
Cassian pushed off the counter. “Well, good morning to you too.”
Dominic reached for the plates and transferred everything onto them—eggs, vegetables, toast on the side, bacon across the top. He set one plate on the kitchen island in front of the empty stool. “Eat.”
Knox blinked. His attention snapped back to Dominic, and for a beat neither of them looked away. Knox glanced at the plate, then back at him, as if he still couldn’t quite believe Dominic had made it for him. Then he nodded and moved closer.
He sat down, picked up the fork, and started eating. Dominic could see the uncertainty in the set of his shoulders, clearly not sure what to do with the situation but not questioning it either.
Cassian watched the whole thing like it was better than television. “This is insane,” he said, reaching for the second plate. “I leave you alone for five minutes and suddenly we’re doing breakfast and domestic bliss?”
“You’re not invited to eat.”
Cassian grabbed a fork anyway. “And yet, here I am.”
Dominic turned back to the stove, cracking another egg into the pan and letting it settle. Behind him he could hear Knox eating and Cassian chewing a piece of bacon.
None of this was normal.
“What did you want to tell me about Mercer?” Dominic said.
Cassian turned on his stool. “Keegan came through. Put us in contact with Mercer’s main suppliers.”
Dominic zeroed in immediately.
“A few have already switched sides,” Cassian continued. “They see the advantages your operation offers. Better structure. Better money.”
Dominic flipped the egg. “And the rest?”
“Willing to consider.” A shrug. “If we lock them in too, Mercer’s cut off. No product, no money. A guy like that doesn’t stay quiet when he’s desperate. He’ll start making moves.”
“Sloppy ones,” Dominic added.
“Exactly. He won’t stay hidden much longer. And when he shows himself—”
“We end it,” Dominic finished as he plated the second round for himself.
Cassian wiped his hands on a napkin. “If you’re good with it, I’ll set up a meeting.
You and the suppliers still sitting on the fence.
You talk to them directly, no doubt they’ll fall in line.
You should meet the ones already committed too, but that’s less urgent.
Just say when and I’ll handle the rest.”
Dominic nodded. “Good work.”
Cassian’s mouth twitched, satisfaction flashing there. “Yeah, well. Someone’s gotta keep things moving while you’re…” his eyes flicked briefly between Dominic and Knox, “...occupied.”
Dominic didn’t rise to it.
Knox suddenly seemed very interested in his breakfast, though. His attention dropped to the plate in front of him and stayed there. The color creeping into his face wasn’t helping.
Cute.
For fuck’s sake.
For a moment nobody spoke. There was only the soft clink of cutlery as the three of them sat in the kitchen eating breakfast like it was an ordinary occurrence.
Dominic’s gaze moved to Cassian. Entirely at home in a way only Cassian could be. They had too much history for anything else. Their loyalty no longer needed words because it had been proven a hundred times over.
Then there was Knox, sitting at his kitchen island, in his shirt, eating food Dominic had made. Somehow he’d worked his way into Dominic’s routines, and now he was everywhere.
Dominic sat there watching him and questioned every decision that had led to this exact moment.
Not because he regretted them.
Because he didn’t.
* * *
The next day, Cassian sat in the passenger seat with one arm hooked lazily against the window, but he wasn’t relaxed. Dominic could feel it in the way his attention kept shifting, like he was waiting for the right moment to say something.
It was late enough in the day that traffic was slowing down.
The meeting had gone exactly the way it needed to.
The last of Mercer’s suppliers had folded—some quicker than others, but they’d all come around in the end.
Dominic had the stability and the reach that Mercer didn’t. It hadn’t even been a real choice.
Mercer was finished. Just a matter of time now.
Dominic should have been focused on that, but instead his mind kept circling back to Knox.
He hadn’t brought him along today. Didn’t need the distraction.
He’d sent him to Mendez instead. Mendez had been short-staffed, people calling in sick, and Knox was more than capable.
It would keep him busy. More importantly, it would keep him out of Dominic’s head.
That had been the idea at least.
“You’re quiet,” Cassian said.
Dominic didn’t look at him. “Meeting went fine.”
“Yeah,” Cassian agreed. “It did.”
Silence stretched between them.
“So,” Cassian went on, tone shifting just enough to matter, “how serious is this?”
There it was.
Dominic glanced at him. “How serious is what?”
Cassian exhaled. “Don’t play stupid. Not this time. You know exactly what I’m asking.”
Dominic’s fingers tapped against the steering wheel before going still. “I’m fucking him.”
It wasn’t an answer, not really, but more than he’d intended to give.
Cassian studied him and nodded slowly. “Yeah. I figured.”
The silence that followed was heavier.
“Thought you were straight,” Cassian said after a moment.
Dominic’s mouth tightened. “So did I.”
The words irritated him more than anything, because they were true. It had always been simple. Women. Distance. Control. Nothing that blurred into something complicated. Nothing that demanded to be examined.
Knox didn’t fit into any of that. He wasn’t supposed to. There was no place for him in anything Dominic had ever understood about himself.
And yet.
“So what changed?” Cassian asked.
Dominic’s grip shifted on the wheel. “Nothing’s changed. I still like women. That hasn’t gone anywhere. Men don’t do anything for me.” A pause. “But Knox is apparently different. He’s an exception.”
“So is it just physical?”
“He’s not—” Dominic started, then stopped. He didn’t like that he didn’t know how to finish that sentence.
“What is it then?” Cassian asked.
Dominic stared at the road. His thoughts were circling somewhere else entirely, somewhere he’d been avoiding for weeks. Lust would’ve been easy to explain. Clean. Containable. But it wasn’t just that. He knew it the way you know a truth you’ve spent too long trying to outrun.
Eventually, you run out of places to hide from it.
“He gets under my skin,” Dominic said. “Shouldn’t. But he does.”
Cassian went very still. “Okay,” he said. “That’s… something.”
Dominic didn’t like the weight that came with admitting it. “He shouldn’t matter,” he continued, more to himself than to Cassian. “He’s just a kid who got pulled into something bigger than him.”
But even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t true. Knox wasn’t helpless. He adapted, watched, and learned faster than anyone Dominic had seen in years. He held his ground in ways Dominic hadn’t expected.
“You care about him,” Cassian said.
It wasn’t a question.