Chapter Four
Donny Rae
The morning light didn't crawl into the room; it demanded entry.
I hated bright-ass lights. I stayed tangled in the silk sheets for a long time, staring up at the intricate crown molding and trying to reconcile the girl I was just a little under a week ago with the woman currently draped in the kind of luxury people usually only see in music videos.
My body felt heavy, a strange mix of exhaustion from the emotional rollercoaster and a new, buzzing energy that I couldn't quite name but could feel pulsing in my fingertips.
I was a virgin who had never even been pressed up against a man in a dark corner, yet here I was, tucked away in the fortress of a man who moved the world with a single word and an icy stare.
Before I could fall back into the rabbit hole of my own thoughts about my father's betrayal, a firm knock sounded at the door, and Dominic's voice rumbled through the thick wood, low and rough.
"Up and at it, mama. You've got twenty minutes to get into some gym clothes. We're moving early today, and I don't like to be kept waiting when the sun is already up."
I scrambled out of bed, my heart doing that frantic little dance it always did when he was near and found a set of designer athletic gear laid out on the ottoman like it had been waiting for me to wake up.
It was a matching two-piece set in a deep charcoal gray—the leggings high-waisted and tight enough to feel like a second skin.
The top was a cropped racerback that left little to the imagination but felt expensive and sturdy.
I pulled it on, feeling exposed but strangely empowered by the way the fabric hugged my hip dips and accentuated the curves I used to try to hide under baggy hoodies. Not that he seemed to care.
I pulled my ginger curls back into a tight, messy bun and splashed cold water on my face, trying to find the spine and the fire Dominic kept insisting I had buried deep inside me.
When I opened the door, he was leaning against the opposite wall, already dressed in a black compression shirt that strained against the massive expanse of his chest and shoulders, his dark ink peeking out from the collar and sleeves like shadows coming to life.
He looked me up and down, a slow, predatory spark lighting up his dark eyes that made my breath hitch in my throat and my knees feel a little less stable than they were a second ago.
"Good. You look ready to put in some work," Dominic stated, his voice, a low vibration that seemed to settle deep in my bones as he started walking down the long, silent hallway, expecting me to follow in his wake without question.
He led me down to the basement level, which turned out to be a private gym that looked more like a professional training facility than something you'd find in a house, no matter how big that house was.
It was all black iron, industrial steel, and neon lighting, humming with a cold, focused energy that matched Dominic's personality perfectly.
Dominic didn't say a word as he pointed me toward a high-tech treadmill, heading over to a squat rack that looked like it had seen a lot of pain and a lot of progress over the years.
I started a slow jog, but my eyes kept drifting toward him in the mirrored walls, watching the way his muscles bunched and shifted under the weight of the heavy iron.
He moved with a brutal, focused grace, his face set in a mask of pure discipline that reminded me he wasn't just rich and powerful; he was forged in a world that didn't allow for an ounce of weakness or hesitation.
"You're staring, Donny Rae," he called out over the sound of the bass-heavy music thumping through the speakers, not even looking up as he pushed over three hundred pounds above his head like it was nothing but air.
I felt the heat rush to my face, my pace faltering for a split second before I caught myself and found my rhythm again, trying to act like I wasn't fascinated by the sheer power he radiated.
"I've just… I've never seen anyone work out like that," I managed to say, my voice sounding small and breathless in the vast, echoing space of the gym.
Dominic finished his set and sat up, wiping a thin layer of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, his gaze locking onto mine through the glass reflection with an intensity that felt like a physical touch.
"In my world, if you ain't the strongest, you're the first to get buried, and that's a lesson I learned before I was even old enough to drive.
I need you to understand that baby. Strength ain't just about how much you can lift or how many niggas you can put in the ground.
It's about the mental. It's about knowing you can endure the weight of the world when it's trying its hardest to crush you into the dirt. "
Dominic walked over to me, stopping the treadmill with a sharp click of his finger and standing so close that I could feel the heat radiating off his skin, the scent of his masculine sweat and expensive soap filling my lungs until my head felt light.
He reached out, his large hand cupping the back of my neck and pulling me just an inch closer, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw with a tenderness that didn't match the hardness in his eyes.
"I'm gonna build you up, Donny. I'm gonna make sure that by the time I'm done with you, nobody in this city is ever gonna look at you and see a victim or a bargaining chip again.
They're gonna see a Masters, and they're gonna know better than to test your chin because they'll know I'm standing right behind you. "
The raw promise of protection and transformation in his voice made my soul ache in a way I didn't understand. He let me go just as quickly as he'd grabbed me, telling me to go get cleaned up because we had a real appointment, he wanted me dressed up for.
I headed back upstairs, my muscles humming from the short workout and my mind spinning from the way he talked about me like I was a project he was invested in, a prize he had won, and a partner he was preparing for a war I didn't even know was happening.
An hour later, I was transformed once again by the team Dominic had at his disposal, draped in a cream-colored knit dress that clung to my waist and flowed over my hips—a look that felt sophisticated but dangerously feminine.
I topped it with a long, matching coat that felt like a suit of armor, cinching the belt tight to emphasize the curves I was slowly learning to be proud of.
Dominic was waiting by the SUV, looking like the rich menace I was sure he was, in a tailored black suit that made him look a mile wide and twice as intimidating, his eyes hidden behind dark designer shades.
He didn't say a word as he opened the door for me, but the way his hand lingered on the small of my back as I climbed in told me everything I needed to know about his mood and his possessiveness.
We drove into the heart of the city, passing blocks I recognized and blocks that looked like a whole different planet, eventually pulling up to a jewelry boutique that didn't even have a sign on the door or a display in the window.
It just had a heavy steel entrance and two-armed guards who looked like they were ready for a full-scale invasion, their eyes scanning the street for any sign of trouble.
This wasn't a mall or a shop for regular people; this was where the elite came to turn their coin into something that sparkled and lasted forever.
Inside, the boutique was silent and smelled of ozone, expensive leather, and old money, with glass cases holding diamonds that shone so brightly I couldn't even begin to calculate their cost in my head.
An older man with a thick European accent scurried out to greet us, bowing slightly to Dominic as if he were royalty, which in this world, he basically was.
"Mr. Masters, it is an honor to have you back so soon. And this must be the lovely lady I have heard so much about," the jeweler said, his eyes twinkling with a mix of curiosity and greed as he looked over me.
Dominic led me to a velvet-lined chair and stood behind me, his hands resting on my shoulders, his fingers splayed out to show the world I was claimed.
"Show her the best you got, Victor. I ain't looking for nothing modest or understated today. I want something that screams her name and mine in the same breath, something that lets everybody know exactly who she belongs to before she even speaks a word."
Victor started pulling out velvet trays that held rings so big they looked like props from a movie set, diamonds the size of grapes that caught the overhead lights and shattered them into a million different colors across the walls.
Dominic didn't ask me what I liked or what my style was. He just studied the trays for a moment before picking up a pear-shaped diamond that was surrounded by a halo of smaller stones, the band encrusted in platinum that shimmered with every movement.
He took my left hand, his fingers certain and steady as they navigated mine, and slid the ring onto my finger with a finality that felt like a lock clicking into place. The weight of it was shocking—a cold, heavy shackle that made my hand look delicate, expensive, and suddenly very important.
As I stared down at the diamond, the reality of this arrangement hit me all over again with a fresh wave of intensity.
This wasn't just jewelry or a gift; it was a branding.
It was a signal to the entire world that I was off the market, out of reach, and under the absolute protection of a man who didn't know the meaning of the word 'no'.
I looked up at Dominic, seeing the reflection of the diamonds in his dark, unyielding gaze, and for a second, I felt like I was drowning in the sheer scale of his world and the life he was building around me.
"It's too much, Dominic," I whispered, my voice trembling as I tried to pull my hand back to inspect the ring from a distance, but he held it tight, his thumb stroking over my knuckles in a way that was both soothing and dominant.
"Nothing is too much for my wife, Donny.
You're gonna wear this, and you're gonna wear it proudly because it represents the power behind the name, you're about to carry.
This ring tells the world that you're under my wing, and any nigga even thinking about breathing your air has to come through my whole organization and me first. It's a shield just as much as it is a piece of jewelry. "
Dominic looked at Victor and gave a sharp, clinical nod, telling him to wrap it up and send the bill to the usual account. He then turned back to me, his expression softer than I ever expected to see on a man who made his living in the shadows and reached out to cup my face in his large hand.
"If you don't like this one, you can have anything in this store, but I want a nigga to see from a mile away that you got a husband and a home, so don't pick anything small."
"I know you're thinking about how you got here, and I know you're still thinking about that buster you used to call a father and how he did you dirty," Dominic murmured, his voice dropping to a level that was meant only for my ears, creating a small world for just the two of us in the middle of that expensive shop.
"But I want you to look at me and really hear what I'm saying to you right now.
I'm a man of my word, and I'm gonna be the best thing that ever happened to you, even if you hate the way it started and the way I had to bring you in.
You're pure, you're beautiful, and you're the only thing in this city I actually give a damn about keeping safe from the rot.
This ring is just the beginning of the life I'm giving you.
By the end of this summer, you're gonna realize that being mine is the only thing that ever-made sense for you, and you're gonna be glad your father was the coward he was. "
Dominic leaned down and pressed a firm, lingering kiss to my forehead, the heat of his lips leaving a mark that felt more permanent and binding than the multimillion-dollar diamond on my finger.
My heart was thudding a frantic rhythm against my ribs—a mixture of the fear I was still clinging to and a new, terrifying heat that was spreading through my veins every time he looked at me like I was his entire world.
As we walked back out to the car, with the sun catching the facets of the diamond and sending sparks of light dancing across the sidewalk, I realized that the fall was officially over.
I was already deep in his world, submerged in his power, and the scariest part of all was that I was starting to think I didn't want to find the way out.
I looked at the man walking beside me, the man who had claimed my life, and I felt the first real tether of love pull tight in my chest, binding me to him in a way that no contract or ring ever could.
The summer was just beginning, but my old life was a distant memory, replaced by the heavy, golden reality of being a Masters.