Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Grace
The shift in Dominic had been gradual, but it was impossible to ignore.
He was still controlled, still composed, still carried himself like a man who had mastered every aspect of his life, but I saw the difference.
The way his shoulders held more tension than before.
The way his usual sharp remarks had dulled, his patience thinner.
The way he withdrew just enough that even the others started to notice.
I wasn’t the only one watching him now.
The band had been unusually quiet throughout the day, but it was Riley who finally said something.
We were in the penthouse lounge, the others scattered across the couches, half-heartedly talking about their upcoming rehearsals.
Dominic sat off to the side, fingers absently tapping against his glass, eyes unfocused.
He wasn’t listening. He wasn’t even pretending to be present.
Riley leaned toward me, voice low. "What’s going on with him?"
I hesitated.
I didn’t know how to answer.
Because the truth was, I wasn’t entirely sure myself.
Dominic was handling everything the same way he handled everything else—with a calm exterior, a perfect mask. But I had been around him long enough to know that he wasn’t fine.
I shook my head. "He’s dealing with it."
Riley frowned, unconvinced. "Dealing with what, exactly?"
I didn’t respond. Because I didn’t have an answer for that either.
But I knew something had to give.
That night, I found Dominic standing on the balcony.
The city stretched before us, a sea of golden lights flickering against the darkness. He leaned against the railing, his posture deceptively relaxed. But I could feel it. The tension radiating off him. The weight of whatever thoughts had been keeping him quiet all day.
I knew he had heard me step outside, but he didn’t turn, didn’t acknowledge me.
For a long moment, we stood there in silence.
Then, finally, he spoke.
"Do you think I made a mistake taking the company?"
His voice was quiet, steady, but I didn’t miss the way his fingers curled slightly against the metal railing.
I exhaled slowly, stepping up beside him. "No," I said carefully. "But I think you made a mistake thinking you had to do it alone."
Dominic let out a soft laugh, one that lacked any real amusement. "That’s the only way I know how to do things, Dauntless."
The air between us shifted.
I wasn’t sure why, but this moment felt different. Not like the tension that always existed between us, the teasing power plays, the unspoken challenges. This wasn’t about control or dominance or proving a point.
This was just him.
And it was just me.
I turned my head slightly, studying him. For the first time since this all started, I saw just how much weight he was carrying.
It wasn’t just about the business.
It wasn’t just about Knox.
It was everything.
The fame. The expectations. The inescapable pressure of constantly having to be something for everyone else.
Dominic Beethoven didn’t just exist in this world. He carried it.
And I had the sudden, dangerous thought that maybe—just maybe—I didn’t want him to carry it alone.
"You’re not alone in this," I murmured.
His fingers flexed against the railing.
He still didn’t look at me, but I felt the shift in him.
Then, slowly, he turned his head.
And suddenly, we were standing too close.
Close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from his body. Close enough that I could hear the way his breath changed just slightly. Close enough that my pulse betrayed me, that my skin felt too aware of the inches between us.
His gaze flickered to my mouth. Just for a second.
Just enough to make my stomach tighten.
I knew I should move. I should step back, break the moment, say something to shatter the tension curling between us like a wire stretched too tight.
But I didn’t.
And neither did he.
His eyes searched mine, dark and unreadable, his breathing slow, controlled—but there was something else there too. Something that made the air feel charged, heavy.
Something that made me wonder what would happen if I didn’t stop this.
If I just… let it happen.
I wasn’t sure which of us moved first.
All I knew was that suddenly, the space between us was almost gone, his body a breath away from mine, the heat between us unbearable.
He didn’t touch me.
Not yet.
But I could feel the tension in him, the way his muscles coiled like he was holding himself back.
Like he was waiting.
Like he was daring me to close the last bit of distance.
His voice was low when he finally spoke, the words barely above a whisper. "If you keep looking at me like that, Dauntless, I’m not going to stop myself."
My heart slammed against my ribs.
I should have said something. I should have broken the moment, reminded him of the boundaries we weren’t supposed to cross.
But I didn’t.
And he knew it.
His hand lifted slightly, his knuckles brushing against my arm—barely a touch, but it burned.
A slow, dangerous smirk curled his lips. "Nothing to say?"
I swallowed hard, but my throat felt too tight.
"Dominic—"
My phone buzzed.
The sound cut through the tension like a blade, sharp and jarring, and suddenly I could breathe again.
I stepped back—too fast, forcing space between us, forcing logic back into my brain. My fingers fumbled as I pulled my phone from my pocket, pulse still too fast, too unsteady.
A message.
No name. No number.
Just a single line.
"You’re running out of time."
The warmth from Dominic’s body disappeared instantly.
The atmosphere snapped back to reality, the moment between us evaporating like it had never happened at all.
Dominic saw the change in my expression immediately. "What?"
I turned the screen toward him, letting him read the message himself. His jaw tightened, his entire demeanor shifting from whatever had just passed between us to something colder.
Something sharper.
He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair, his eyes dark with something unreadable.
"He’s close," I murmured.
Dominic nodded slowly. "Yeah."
I took another step back, inhaling deeply, forcing myself to reset, to push down whatever had just happened between us, to lock it away. There were more important things to focus on.
But as I stared down at the message, at the unspoken threat buried beneath those four words, something settled inside me.
Whatever was coming, I wasn’t letting him face it alone.