Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Dominic
The cameras were rolling. The lights were blinding. The crowd was screaming. I smiled like I meant it.
"Dominic, tell us, how does it feel knowing DreamCrest’s latest album has shattered global streaming records?" The interviewer, a polished woman with a forced grin, leaned forward, microphone extended.
"Ah, it’s unreal," I said, flashing my signature playful smirk. "We put our hearts into this album, and seeing the fans connect with it? It’s the best feeling in the world."
A wave of applause erupted from the live audience, mostly teenage girls clutching DreamCrest signs and phones aimed at the stage.
"That’s amazing! And your fans, they adore you," the interviewer continued. "What’s the secret to being the most loved member of DreamCrest?"
I laughed, tilting my head like I was considering the question. "Secret? Just be yourself, I guess."
The audience roared again.
Bullshit.
This wasn’t me. This was him—the golden boy of DreamCrest, the charming, flirtatious, good-natured Dominic Beethoven. The one the world loved. The one who smiled, winked, and made the fans swoon.
Inside, I was bored.
Ezra sat beside me, arms crossed, expression unreadable behind his sunglasses. Jaden and Theo gave standard polite answers when questioned, while Riley was busy flirting with a fan in the front row.
The whole interview was scripted, predictable, emand pty.
And meanwhile, the only thing on my mind was the threats.
They had started as letters—harmless fan mail at first, then more obsessive. Then personal. Too personal. Details about my routines. Places I’d been. Notes appearing in places no fan should have access to.
Last week, a security breach had occurred at our penthouse. Nothing was stolen. Nothing was even touched. Just a single note left on my pillow:
"See you soon, Dom."
I kept my smile perfectly in place as the interviewer moved on to Riley, who was gushing about his latest hair color change.
I needed to find out who the hell was messing with me.
The moment the interview ended and the cameras cut, I let out a breath and stretched my arms.
"That was fun," I lied as we walked backstage.
"That was fake as hell," Ezra muttered beside me, pulling off his sunglasses. "If I have to sit through one more scripted ass-kissing session, I’m gonna lose it."
"Big words for a guy who barely spoke," I said, smirking.
"I was doing the world a favor," he shot back.
Our security team ushered us into the private exit, away from the screaming fans waiting outside. I kept my easygoing demeanor, waving at a few who managed to slip past the barriers. The second we were in the car, I dropped the act.
"Any updates?" I asked my tone sharper now.
Our manager, David, sitting in the front seat, turned around with a grim look. "No progress on identifying the stalker. But I’m not taking chances. You need private security, Dom."
"No."
"You don’t have a choice."
I hated being told that.
"I can handle myself," I said, voice calm but firm.
Ezra exhaled sharply beside me. "Dom, this isn’t just some crazed fan sneaking into hotel lobbies. Someone got into our bedrooms. They’re inside our spaces. This is next-level shit."
I clenched my jaw. I knew he was right. I just didn’t like it.
David ignored my glare and continued, "Titan Security has already assigned someone. The best in the business. You’re meeting them tomorrow."
I ran a hand through my hair, irritated beyond belief. A bodyguard? Someone shadowing me, dictating my movements? No. I refused.
David handed me a file. "At least look at the profile before you start throwing a fit."
I snatched it from him, flipping it open.
The photo was the first thing that caught my attention. Sharp eyes. Cold expression. Jet-black hair pulled into a tight ponytail. She looked like she wanted to kill the photographer.
I skimmed the details.
Former military lawyer turned high-level security consultant. Specialized in VIP protection. Known for being ruthless, calculated, and impossible to intimidate.
I felt a smirk tug at my lips.
Interesting.
Most bodyguards I’d dealt with before were stiff, robotic, and predictable. This one? She had bia te.
Dava id noticed my expression and sighed. "She’s the best. Don’t screw around with her."
"Who, me?" I said, grinning.
Ezra groaned. "Great. He’s intrigued. This is gonna be a disaster."
I leaned back, fingers tapping the file. I wasn’t happy about this arrangement. I didn’t trust easily. And I sure as hell didn’t need someone tailing me, trying to control how I moved.
But Grace Dauntless?
She might just be fun to break.
The penthouse was silent except for the faint hum of city traffic outside. I stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, drink in hand, staring out at the skyline.
I’d built everything from the ground up. The fame. The fortune. The empire I controlled behind the scenes.
And yet, someone was trying to shake me.
I didn’t like it.
A bodyguard wasn’t my ideal solution. But if this Grace woman was as good as they claimed, maybe she’d be useful.
Or maybe she’d be a challenge.
Either way, I was looking forward to testing her limits.
I placed the file on the table, running a finger over her name one last time before smirking to myself.
"Let’s see if she’s as unshakable as they say."