2. Lena #2
A car pulls up to the curb. The rear window lowers in a slow slide, the tinted glass catching the streetlight as it moves.
Anton. He’s in the back seat, of course, his driver just a silhouette up front.
He lifts two fingers and curls them once, sharply.
A command. Like he’s summoning an assistant, not addressing someone who could destroy him.
Fuck him. I stay put.
“Therapy or a lawyer to get you out of jail? What were you doing in that building?”
His voice is low, but calm, with just enough amusement to make my skin crawl.
“Go to hell, Anton. I hear they’re looking for a new mayor down there.”
I toss the words over my shoulder without looking at him, but I can feel his eyes on me, calculating, entitled, like he’s still the one in control. He laughs softly.
“You can shout, throw accusations around, spin your little story, but let’s not pretend this isn’t personal. That’s tired, Lena.”
He leans in slightly, voice dropping. “You’re still the same unstable girl who never figured out how to handle a man. Still bitter that I said no, because God forbid someone like me didn’t want you.”
He tilts his head, gives me that crooked, smug smile, like he actually believes the shit he’s spouting.
“You’re delusional, Anton, if you think anyone believes that fairy tale your daddy made up to cover for you.
But then again, it makes sense. The compulsions.
The lies. Your need to twist reality until it fits your version of the world.
Maybe you do need therapy. All that lying messed with your head. ”
I hold his gaze, and his jaw is tight. Like he’s swallowing down rage one breath at a time. He continues.
“I’ll always be ahead. But you? You’re the one sinking. I know what you’re digging into. I know who you’ve been talking to.”
His voice hardens. “Lies that’ll blow up in your face. It won’t take much to ruin you. Some nobody journalist, green, desperate, blinded by ambition, trying to make a name for herself by going after a politician. You’re not the first to try.”
His fingers curl around the window frame, but his smile doesn’t budge.
“No,” I say. “But I’ll be the first to succeed.”
I keep my voice steady, but there’s a blade under every word.
“You’re desperate. That’s the only reason you’re following me. Walk away before I lose it.”
I lean in just enough. “You’re nothing but a pathetic man who’ll spend the rest of his life limping, a walking reminder that you underestimated the wrong woman. You’ll drag that leg like you’ll drag the rest of your life, straight into a prison cell.”
My throat tightens, but not from fear. From rage.
He’s never been good at swallowing his pride, especially when a woman’s the one who bruises it.
His smile falters. Then the car door slams open.
In a flash, he’s out, shoving me hard against the building’s wall.
His body blocks my movement as his eyes burn into mine.
“You don’t stand a chance against me,” he hisses, gripping my arm. His breath hits my face—hot, sour, full of venom.
“You don’t have the guts to go beyond threats,” I snap back.
“And it’d be a mistake if you did. If anything happens to me, if I don’t make it home, if I show up at the hospital with so much as a bruise, two envelopes go out.
One to my newsroom. One to the police. Every filthy detail about you, laid out in full. "
I take a deep breath. “My editors know I’m investigating you. You’re already on their radar.”
He narrows his eyes, jaw twitching.
“And what good will that do,” he spits, “if you’re not around to enjoy my downfall? I don’t buy it. If you had real proof, you would’ve used it already.”
I meet his glare. My breathing’s tight, fast, but I don’t flinch or look away.
“You’re right,” I say, voice cold. “What I’ve got so far will destroy your campaign. But give me just a little more, and I’ll have enough to put you behind bars.”
He jerks my arm, yanking me toward him so fast I slam into his chest. The stench of his cologne hits me, thick and cloying, sickening enough to make me gag. If I throw up, I hope it’s on him.
“Let. Me. Go,” I snarl. “Or I swear I’ll make you howl, you piece of shit.”
My leg tenses, ready to strike. I twist hard, using my whole body to break free, aiming right between his legs. His eyes widen, but before I can land the kick, he’s yanked backward by a force stronger than mine.
Dominic .
He’s suddenly there, jaw tight, eyes dark, mouth set in a grim, deadly line.
He slams Anton into the pavement. The driver lunges toward us.
Without hesitation, Dominic turns and lands a clean, brutal punch.
The man collapses beside the car. Dominic moves fast, stepping between us and checking my arm. His touch is quick, firm.
“You okay?”
God, I wanted to hit Anton so bad. I’d been waiting for this exact moment, for him to lose it, to come at me, just so I could beat him down until he couldn’t get up. All those years training in university self-defense classes? About to pay off. If Dominic hadn’t shown up out of nowhere.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I snap. “I was fine. I was about to flatten that idiot.”
“You wouldn’t have handled Anton and his driver. Not with the rest of his muscle a block away.”
His voice is calm, firm. “The driver already called them, they’re on their way.”
“What?”
He doesn’t flinch. “Trust me. I know how men like him operate. You need to go. I’ll clean this up.”
He looks down at Anton, unconscious on the pavement. “Didn’t think I’d enjoy knocking out scum like him this much.”
Anton staggers to his feet, swaying, and points a trembling finger at Dominic.
“You won’t get away with this. You or your whore.”
Fatal last words. Dominic steps forward and slams a punch straight into his face. A crack. Blood sprays from Anton’s nose. He touches it, sees red, then goes pale and drops like a sack of bricks.
“Did you kill him?” I ask, breathless.
Dominic shrugs. “Not yet. Just a message.” His eyes flick past me. “Can you run? My car’s around the corner.”
He grabs my hand, pulling me with him. My arm aches where Anton grabbed it, but I don’t slow down.
We round the corner and reach Dominic’s sleek, low-slung sports car.
I slide into the passenger seat and glance back where two bulky guys are charging toward us.
Dominic slams the door, throws it into gear, and floors it.
The tires shriek. We rocket forward. I sink into the seat, my breath finally starting to slow.
After a few blocks, Dominic slows down and checks the rearview mirror.
“We’re clear. They’re not following us anymore. You’re safe.”
He glances over. “You should stay at the hotel tonight.”
“With you?”
Seriously? Did that just come out of my mouth?
He lifts an eyebrow, amused. “Wow. That’s your way of saying thanks?”
A small smirk. “You’ll be safe at my hotel, even if I’m not the one holding you. Unless… I can arrange for you to stay in my room if that’s what you want.”
“I’m not. That was the stress talking. And the adrenaline. Just… take me home.”
His voice hardens slightly. “Not a good idea. Anton holds grudges. I meant what I said, stay at the hotel. I’ll be working late at the club anyway.”
“Dominic, this is my job. I’m not going to hide like I’m scared of him. I can handle myself. It’s not a big deal.”
He shoots me a hard look. “No. It is a big deal. He’s a six-foot pile of muscle with bodyguards who would’ve wrecked you if I hadn’t stepped in. Don’t act like this was nothing. You should report it.”
“To the police? Please!”
I grit my teeth. “That’s not going to help. They won’t touch him. I’ll end up looking like a joke.”
“I’m not talking about just any cop.”
His voice drops, more serious now. “Damien’s still on the inside. You know him. He’ll find a legal way to bring Anton down.”
“And he will go down. But not for what he did to me tonight. For everything else.”
I pause, locking eyes with him. “You don’t need to get tangled in this. You’ll just make it worse.”
Dominic leans forward, resting his arms on the steering wheel. His jaw is tight, tension radiating off him in silence.
“You’re playing with fire, Sassy. How long has this been going on? Three months? More?”
“You’re keeping track now?”
“As much as your warrior-goddess vibe turns me on, I won’t lie, I’m worried.”
He exhales. “Anton’s going to be pissed I hit him tonight. But let’s face it—he won’t come after me. Guys like him don’t go after the ones who hit back.”
He meets my eyes, voice lower now. “They go after the woman who dared to stand up to him.”
Maybe it’s the adrenaline. Maybe it’s that smug little smirk he thinks is charming, like he’s trying to play it cool, like he’s not worried.
Or maybe... maybe I’m just too exhausted to keep pretending I’ve got it all under control. Right now, his hotel feels safer than facing the night alone, stubborn and proud.
“Fine. I’ll stay at the hotel. But not in your room. And tomorrow, I go back to my life.”
He shrugs, still wearing that maddening smile.
“Bad news, sweetheart. Technically, every room is mine. I own the place.”
He doesn’t stop grinning as he pulls up in front of the hotel. And I don’t stop hating that smile. But I still follow him inside.