Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Grace
Riley’s voice blasted through my phone the second I picked up.
“Grace, we have a problem.”
There was a sharpness to his tone that immediately put me on edge. I adjusted my grip on the phone, already walking toward my laptop. “What kind of problem?”
Riley let out a shaky breath. “Dominic’s private emails and financial records just leaked. Not just band-related stuff—personal. Bank statements, property ownerships, investments. Everything. Someone dumped it online.”
My stomach turned cold. I pressed the phone tighter against my ear, my steps quickening. “Where?”
“Some anonymous forum, but it’s spreading fast. Theo’s on damage control with legal, but this is bad, Grace. This isn’t just a random leak—someone went after him specifically.”
I was already scanning the penthouse for Dominic, but he was nowhere in sight. “Does he know?”
“Yeah,” Riley muttered. “And he’s not saying a damn thing.”
That was all I needed to hear. I ended the call without another word and moved down the hall, my pulse hammering. I didn’t bother knocking when I reached Dominic’s door—I just pushed it open.
He was already awake, sitting at the edge of his bed, his phone pressed to his ear, his jaw tight, expression unreadable.
He didn’t look shocked.
He looked like he had been expecting this.
I didn’t say anything.
And then, into the phone, his voice came—low, quiet, sharp.
"If you think I’m backing down because of this, you don’t know me at all."
I froze.
Something in my chest tightened as I took a step forward, watching him carefully. He wasn’t just reacting to this. He was countering.
I didn’t move, didn’t interrupt, just listened.
A pause. A slow tap of his fingers against his knee. "No. Handle it the way I told you. And tell him?—"
Then, finally, he looked up at me.
And something flickered in his eyes.
Something dangerous.
"Tell him I don’t scare easily."
He ended the call.
The silence between us was thick, humming with tension. He didn’t speak, didn’t explain, just watched me, waiting for my reaction.
I crossed my arms. “Want to tell me what’s really going on?”
Dominic exhaled, rolling his shoulders back like he was shaking off the weight of something. Then he stood, walking toward me slowly, each step measured, deliberate.
"Why don’t you tell me, Dauntless?" His voice was calm, smooth, almost amused. "Who’s watching who?"
I clenched my jaw, refusing to step back even as he stopped just inches away. His gaze flickered over my face, too perceptive, too damn knowing, and for a second, I felt it again—that unbearable pull between us, the one I kept pretending didn’t exist.
I inhaled sharply, ignoring the way my pulse stuttered. "Dominic."
His mouth twitched like he knew exactly what he was doing. "Grace."
God, I hated him.
I shoved past him and went straight for his desk, flipping open my laptop, fingers moving fast over the keys. “Your private records weren’t just leaked. Someone has access to your personal devices. I’m running a full scan?—”
The screen glitched.
I froze.
Lines of code flooded the monitor, a rapid stream of unreadable data. A second later, a new window opened.
ACCESS DENIED.
My stomach twisted. Someone was already inside the system.
This wasn’t just a hack.
This was someone inside the walls.
My fingers flew over the keyboard, trying to override the breach, but whoever was in the system—they were good. They were anticipating my moves before I even made them.
Then—
A message appeared.
"STILL THINK YOU’RE IN CONTROL?"
A slow, unsettling chill slid down my spine.
Dominic stepped closer, his voice quiet. "They’re watching."
I exhaled, keeping my breathing even. "Not just watching." My fingers tightened against the laptop. "They’re toying with us."
Another flicker. The message disappeared. The system rebooted itself—completely wiped clean.
Whoever they were, they wanted to be known.
They were one step ahead.
I leaned back, rubbing a hand down my face. My heart was still pounding, but I forced my voice to stay even. "This isn’t random. It’s not just about the band. It’s personal. And judging by how unfazed you are, I’m guessing you already know who’s behind it."
Silence.
I turned to face him fully. "Who are you pissing off, Dominic?"
He didn’t answer.
But he didn’t deny it, either.
Instead, he walked to the bar cart, pouring himself a drink. The ice clinked against the glass, the amber liquid swirling under the dim lights. He took a slow sip, then sat on the couch, his body loose, relaxed. Like this wasn’t the biggest security breach of his life.
I crossed my arms, watching him. "You drink whiskey when you’re pissed off."
His smirk was slow, deliberate. "And you play detective when you’re frustrated."
I walked over, took the glass from his hand, and set it aside. Then I sat across from him, my voice steady. "You want to tell me what’s really going on?"
Dominic leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, his expression unreadable. "And if I don’t?"
I didn’t blink. "Then I’ll find out anyway."
A long pause.
Then, finally, something flickered in his eyes—something amused, almost impressed.
His smirk softened, but his voice dropped lower, something deeper curling around his words.
"You really don’t back down, do you?"
I tilted my head slightly. "You really think I would?"
Another pause. The tension between us thickened, something unspoken pressing into the space.
His gaze held mine, unwavering.
I should have looked away.
I should have left it alone.
But I didn’t.
Because for the first time, I wasn’t just wondering who was watching us.
I was wondering if Dominic already knew exactly who was behind it.