Chapter 3 Dominic
The skyline stretches before me, the morning light barely piercing through the thick Seattle clouds. I sit in my office, fingers drumming against the glass-top desk, eyes fixed on the endless emails piling into my inbox. Deals, acquisitions, requests—business as usual.
And yet, my mind isn’t here.
It’s elsewhere. Stuck in a memory I can’t shake.
Amelia Grant.
She’s been invading my thoughts like an unrelenting storm, stirring things inside me I should have buried long ago. Seeing her at the gala was one thing. Watching her walk away—again—was something else entirely.
A sharp knock pulls me from my thoughts.
Eleanor Whitfield steps inside, poised and unreadable as ever. Her tailored suit is immaculate, her dark eyes scanning me with that quiet efficiency that means she already knows where my mind was moments ago.
“Your Highness,” she greets, closing the door behind her.
I sigh. “Eleanor, I’ve told you not to call me that.”
She lifts a brow but doesn’t comment. “There’s pressure from the royal family for you to attend the next advisory meeting in Petrovia.”
“Not happening.”
“Dominic—”
“I’m not discussing this.”
Eleanor exhales, clearly unimpressed with my defiance. “Avoiding your heritage doesn’t erase it.”
I push back in my chair, rubbing my temples. “I have a company to run.”
“And a kingdom waiting,” she counters smoothly. “You can’t keep hiding behind your empire forever.”
I level her with a glare, but she’s immune to it. Years of dealing with my stubbornness have conditioned her.
“Anything else?”
She studies me for a long moment before shaking her head. “The board meeting starts in twenty minutes.”
“Then I’ll see you there.”
She leaves without another word, her heels clicking against the marble floors as she disappears down the hall.
I exhale slowly, trying to shake the weight of the conversation.
Royal obligations are the last thing I need clouding my judgment today.
I grab my phone, flipping through my schedule out of habit. I don’t expect my pulse to spike when I see a new name added to today’s agenda.
Dr. Amelia Grant—Medical Compliance Officer.
I blink.
What the hell?
I reread it, my stomach twisting as I realize exactly what this means. Amelia is working for me.
This can’t be real.
A slow heat rises inside me—half frustration, half something else I refuse to name. She never mentioned anything about this. And now, she’s walking straight into my world—again.
This time, she won’t be able to walk away so easily.
The boardroom hums with low conversation as I step inside, my presence alone enough to command immediate silence.
A dozen executives turn their heads, but I ignore them, heading straight to my seat at the head of the table.
The meeting begins, reports filtering in—financials, projections, all things I should be focusing on.
But my focus fractures the moment the door opens.
And in walks Amelia.
The room shifts as whispers spread like wildfire. The woman who left my bed without a second thought now stands before me in a sharp navy dress, confidence radiating from her like an unshakable force.
She doesn’t look at me immediately, keeping her focus on Eleanor as she’s introduced to the team.
“This is Dr. Amelia Grant,” Eleanor announces. “She’ll be overseeing medical compliance for our latest ventures.”
Murmurs ripple across the table. I lean back in my chair, observing the scene with detached amusement.
If Amelia feels the weight of my stare, she doesn’t show it.
Then, finally, her gaze lifts.
And when our eyes lock, something unspoken crackles between us.
A challenge. A reckoning. A damn problem I wasn’t prepared for.
The meeting continues, but my focus is shot.
I catch glimpses of her—how she takes notes, how she speaks with that quiet authority that commands attention. I should be annoyed.
Instead, I’m intrigued.
Dangerously so.
When the meeting concludes, the others filter out, but Amelia stays rooted in place. Eleanor gives me a knowing look before slipping out, leaving us alone.
Silence thickens between us.
Finally, I break it. “You didn’t think to mention this?”
She tilts her head, unimpressed. “I didn’t think it was your concern.”
I scoff. “You’re working in my company.”
“And?”
I push up from my chair, closing the space between us. “And you think this is going to work? You and me, in the same space?”
She crosses her arms, refusing to back down. “I’m here to do a job. My personal life has nothing to do with it.”
I let out a low laugh, shaking my head. “You really believe that?”
She exhales, her confidence wavering for just a second. “Look, I didn’t plan for this either. But I’m not walking away from an opportunity because of the past.”
I step closer, invading her space, watching as she swallows hard but refuses to step back.
“You left without a word.”
Her lips part slightly, but no words come. For the first time, she looks unsure.
“I don’t do well with unfinished business, Amelia.”
She lifts her chin, regaining her footing. “Then consider it finished.”
I study her for a long moment, feeling the energy between us shift, tighten.
A war of wills neither of us is willing to lose.
She exhales, stepping around me, and I let her go—this time.
But as she reaches the door, she glances over her shoulder. “I assume you remember we live next to each other?”
My muscles lock as her words sink in.
She gives me one last look before disappearing down the hall, leaving me standing there, heart pounding, jaw clenched.
Living next to her just became my biggest problem.
And I’m not sure I want to solve it.
That night, back in my penthouse, I catch sight of her window from my balcony.
Her lights are on, a silhouette moving behind sheer curtains.
I should look away. I should shut the door.
Instead, I stay there, watching, knowing full well this is far from over.
Because deep down, I don’t want it to be.
And that? That’s the real problem.
I exhale, gripping the balcony railing, trying to steady my mind, but the tension lingers.
The thought of Amelia, so close yet still out of reach, needles into me with unsettling precision.
Just as I decide to head inside, my phone buzzes on the table.
A message from Eleanor.
Board wants an update. Also, Petrovia is asking again. You can’t ignore them forever.
I rub a hand over my jaw, irritation flaring. The weight of my two worlds collides in ways I never anticipated.
And the one thing I want most?
The one thing I shouldn’t?
She’s right across the way.
And there’s no escaping her now.