CHAPTER 16

The week was full of ups and downs. Dom spent the last four days recovering from the flu and I found several ways to get him to take his medication. Fortunately, everything worked out and he didn't get suspicious. So next time I'll know what to do if he needs it. Eva tried to talk to me, texting and calling me several times as if we were intimate. The difference was that they were threats, like: "You're running out of time, you haven't given me any answers, you don't know who you're dealing with...", and I didn't answer, because, if I get involved, it won't be good. I've already got Eva by the scruff of the neck, and I've only seen her twice.

Apart from that, the week went smoothly. I went back to the neurologist, my brain is still the same, and I had the stitches removed from my head.  Yesterday, Didi had a party at her house, just for us girls. It was incredible. I stayed until 1:30 in the morning, because that's when the boys left the house and Dom picked me up. We had a great time and slept together, as we do every night. We got up early today, with a big breakfast, because today is Saturday, and we're going to Chérie's birthday.

Dominique isn't the least bit excited, and I'm sure it's because of the meeting with his family, but he looks smoking hot. He's wearing black tailored pants and a lead gray long-sleeved shirt, his hair combed back, and dark, gold-framed glasses.

We've been on the road for twenty minutes. Dom is driving and I'm in the passenger seat, with my feet on the dashboard, while Blanca is lying on the back seat. Dominique accelerates and the wind that comes into the car ruffles my hair, messing up the ice bow that was tied.

“Why is the party starting so early?”, Blanca asks, sleepily.

“It must be to catch up”, I reply.

“You two ain’t ready for this party”, says Dom, directly.

I look at Blanca out of the corner of my eye, and she's clearly sorry she came after hearing that sentence. Dominique accelerates in a straighter line, playing at throwing the car from side to side. Blanca holds onto the door, and I shout for him to go faster. He puts his foot down on the accelerator and the surrounding landscape turns into a vivid green blur.

We soon spot a navy Porsche SUV ahead ,and Dominique starts honking, pairing up with it while slowing down.

“What's up, you little prick?”, Dominique shouts.

The tinted window lowers, revealing Jolie's excited countenance when she sees him and Maurice, who is driving and looks at him with a defiant countenance.

“Close your mouth to keep the dust out”, says Maurice.

“I can't wait to see you try.”

Dom replies, accelerating and overtaking, while Maurice sticks out his middle finger, increasing the speed. The car drives along the winding road, surrounded by towering trees, while the morning sun bathes everything in soft light. As we get closer, the imposing mansion of the Le Blanc family appears on the horizon. The estate is immense. The entrance is through a gate adorned with gilded iron. The security guard releases us when he recognizes Dominique at the wheel, and as we enter, the paved road leads directly to the mansion. Ancient statues of mythological figures and flower beds embellish the path.

We stopped in front of the mansion, next to a round fountain carved out of marble. The building, made of ancient stone, combines Renaissance and classical French styles. The windows are tall and wide. The main balcony is adorned with red flowers. The grand façade, with its Greek-influenced columns, exudes grandeur. Blanca and I get out of the car, and she lowers her sunglasses.

“Modest, huh?”, Blanca comments, sarcastically.

I feel the heavy atmosphere of the place. It's so chic and ostentatious. I'm used to Monaco, which is a spectacle of luxury, but here... here it's different, for the worse. I feel strange, intimidated, which is not normal for me. I take a step back, but Dominique's hand spreads across my back, pushing me forward.

“Don't even think about it. If I'm staying, so are you”, he says, in a low whisper.

I look at him sideways, almost begging for help, regretting having come.

“Let's see what the show is going to be tonight”, says Maurice, approaching.

“It's going to be incredible!”, Jolie looks expectantly inside.

“You're going to behave, understand?”, asks Maurice.

“It's a party!”, the girl retorts.

She's the first to enter, as if she were home, familiar with everything around her. Blanca hooks her arm in mine.

 “Just do as I do: stick out your nose and parade”, she says, with conviction.

I nod in agreement. Dominique wouldn't bring Maurice here if he didn't know the family well. This makes everything even more tense, because I really don't know what to expect. I'm trying to prepare myself for everything. Blanca lets me go, going to Maurice's side, and I stay with Dom. We pass through the high doors that are open, and I hold my breath as I notice many eyes turning towards us in the huge room. The women, with their extravagant jewelry and haute couture dresses, walk around with a calculated posture, exuding an aura of wealth and power. Their hairs, impeccably styled, vary between shades of platinum blonde and soft brown. The men, all in well-cut suits, look like they've just stepped out of a men's fashion magazine. Classy, handsome, every movement executed with elegance. The looks directed at us are of curiosity. It's as if I've walked into a snake's nest, and maybe I have, because the black mamba is coming to welcome us. Eva. Her glassy gaze passes Dominique and focuses on me, analyzing me from top to bottom, without seeming surprised that Dominique has shown up with me. Her gray eyes exude confidence and power, like "I can get anything I want". Her thin heels click against the floor and her well-cut black dress shapes her body, exuding sophistication. Her blonde hair, voluminous and loose, contrasts with her soft make-up, where her lips stand out. Around her neck is a delicate necklace with pendants of a boy and a girl. Eva hugs her brother.

“I can't believe you came. Chérie will be so happy! Her aunt and uncle were just asking about you.”

“I can imagine”, Dominique replies, “Do they still want to take over the casino? Because I brought the lawyer”, he says quietly, so that only Eva and I can hear.

She smiles, adjusting the collar of Dom's shirt.

“You really don't change, do you? I can assure you that no one will talk about it today, and I hope you'll do the same”, Eva says with certainty.

“It all depends on how this party goes, doesn't it?”, Dom speaks in a serious tone.

“Nicely, like all the ones I organize”, Eva cuts him off, “I'll ask someone to collect your luggage.”

“We're not staying”, Dom steps forward.

 Eva clearly contradicted herself, interlacing her fingers in front of her slender body.

“I'm not surprised you're not staying”, she says, irritably.

The barbs are thrown, the tone is calm, but you can feel the blade tearing the air. Then she looks at me, as if I'm the next victim, and with a sly smile, she hugs me too.

“Enjoy the party.”

I return the hug, just to be polite.

“Let's see how long you can last with Dominique”, this time he whispers in my ear, “Because the last one didn't have a happy ending”, and she smiles, as she walks away to greet Maurice.

If I still had any doubts that what he lost was a woman, now it's clear. And what did she die of? Why wasn't her ending a happy one? I'm sure she went into the games room and took his video game. It was game over.[1]

I don't react to Eva's provocation, I just hold my nose. I look at Blanca, who raises her thumb in support, just in time to see Eva pulling her by the hand.

“Darling, my condolences. I didn't have time to tell you before”, Eva grabs Blanca's arm and leads her across the room.

I exchange glances with Dom.

“She's going to steal your friend”, he says, pointing with his index finger at the scene.

I slap the air.

“Never. You bought her for me”, I say.

Dom is taken aback when I say it, raising an eyebrow.

“Do you really think I didn't know?”, I toss my hair, leaving Dominique with an incredulous look on his face, and step out in front of him, “We're inseparable.”

The room is spacious, with high ceilings and dark wooden beams that contrast with the white walls. Fine, elegant chandeliers hang in the center, casting delicate reflections on the flat surfaces. In the center, there are deeply padded leather sofas arranged around a black marble table. Sculptures stand in strategic corners, combined with paintings in gilded frames. Persian rugs adorn the polished wooden floor, muffling footsteps. Dom holds my hand tightly as we walk through the room. Some relatives just watch us from afar, while others try to stop us to chat. Dominique doesn't show the slightest interest, cutting off any attempt at conversation with a few words, leaving no room for small talk.

Suddenly, a well-dressed man, not very tall, with gray hair and beard, approaches us with the smile of someone who loves a good gossip and stands in front of us.

“A large part of the family is curious to know who the woman next to our dear Dominique is”, he says, taking a sip of his whiskey.

“Hello, Paul”, Dom replies, briefly.

“I haven't seen you around for a while. Eva told me you weren't coming.”

“Not really. I just came to bring Chérie's present, and then I'm leaving.”

The man looks me up and down, curious.

“What's your name?”

I glance at Dom, who isn't happy at all.

“Kiara Lefebvre.”

“Nice to meet you. I'm his father's brother. I imagine he hasn't mentioned me.”

“Of course I did. How could I leave out the fact that my uncle is trying to take over the casino?”, Dominique answers, straightforwardly, as always.

 I stay neutral, but inside I'm shocked.

“Dominique, you have no reason to be resentful…”

“My lawyer is around. Take it up with him”, Dom cuts in, squeezing my hand more firmly, and leading me away.

As we walk through the rest of the mansion, Dominique leans slightly towards me, murmuring as his eyes scan each corner cautiously. The surrounding décor screams opulence, but with a cool, calculated elegance.

“Don't open up to these people. Don't say anything. Don't trust smiles or looks. This is the best place to use your "doorknob face", understand?”, Dom's tone is relaxed.

“I see. But why does he want to take the casino?”

We follow a long corridor, lit by crystal sconces that cast soft shadows on the walls. The polished marble floors reflect our footsteps and the echo of my heel against the floor shows its grandeur.

“There isn't one person who doesn't want it. They think they'd do better. One minute in their hands and the whole Le Blanc fortune and history would go to shit”, but it'll only happen if I die, then it's fucked.

“Why don't you ever tell me anything? Something always must have happened for you to talk. It's a pain”, I say, angrily.

We continue walking.

“Why do I have to tell you these things? Don't you understand that I don't want to drag problems into my house? You and the chicken are my limit.”

As we pass the library, I notice the dark wooden shelves, crammed with old books, and my eyes light up with interest. But Dom continues to guide me, entwining his hand in mine and the gesture catches me off guard, making my heart race.

“It's like you're going to tell me somewhere else, it's just an excuse”, I'm very incisive.

The dining room appears just ahead, with a long mahogany wooden table, which seems to extend to the other side of the room, covered in an impeccable linen tablecloth.

“I just don't want to talk about this shit when I'm with you, Kiki.”

I nod in agreement. I'm not going to be invasive, am I?

“Why do you call me Kiki? I still don't know…”

He lets out a laugh.

“Kinder Surprise[2], do you know it?”

“Chocolate? How cheesy!”

We looked at each other in outrage. Me for my own reasons and him for his. I've insulted his creativity, I imagine. Finally, we reach the double doors that lead to the garden. As soon as we step out, the fresh air envelops us and the atmosphere changes completely. The contrast with the interior is striking. The garden is full of colorful flowers, with soft scents in the air. In the center, the tea table, adorned with cupcakes and delicate decorations, is surrounded by children, oblivious to any tension or conspiracy that might be going on inside.

“Wow, that garden is beautiful!”

“I'll talk to Chérie and take you for a walk around the house”, Dom kisses my mouth briefly, letting go of my hand.

Dom heads towards Chérie, who, at the sight of her uncle, lets out a happy cry and runs towards him in her red and white flower-print dress. She hugs him as soon as she reaches him. He takes a small box out of his pocket with a pink bow and hands it to the girl, who quickly opens it and takes out a key. Turning to her friends, she exclaims:

“I won a yacht with my name on it!”

The girls scream loudly, all celebrating the gift along with Chérie. I sit on a bench, watching Dom play with his niece, while he takes a cup of tea and grimaces at the taste, which is probably not to his liking. I catch myself smiling, but I force myself to think of something else, as if that were easy. That I've lost control is nothing new, but it's been unbearable dealing with my heart and it's very tacky.

The last few hours have been fun. I met Chérie and, to my surprise, she quickly dispelled the bad impression that I would be a mistress. We talked about everything from fashion to books. She loves to read. When it was time to eat, I lost myself in the hazelnut cream crepe. I stopped counting on the sixth. It was all crepe and champagne, so many that Dominique couldn't bear to taste any more.

Dom's cell phone rang and he was interrupted to answer it. I took the opportunity to go for a walk, because the combination of champagne and crepes wasn't the best. My fingertips felt cold and I suddenly felt sick. All I needed was​​ get sick at the party from eating too much. I decide to walk through the garden and it's difficult in my high sandals, running my fingers through my hair, not knowing exactly which way to go, but following my instinct. Every corner of this place exudes aristocracy!

The afternoon air has a humid feel to it, bringing with it the scent of flowers that mingle with the light breeze. My stomach is still churning. In the distance, I hear the quiet murmur of water and I follow the sound, moving away from the laughter. As I get closer, I find a large lake, surrounded by tall trees. The wind blows slowly, making my hair flutter. I stop at the edge, watching the water come and go, and take a deep breath, pursing my lips, regretting having overdone it on the crepe.

“Are you all right? Do you need anything?”, a male voice, firm but serene, cuts through the silence.

I turn sharply and my eyes meet his. A tall man with short black hair and piercing blue eyes is watching me with an attentive, almost clinical gaze. He is wearing an impeccable black blazer, which contrasts with the neatly trimmed beard that lines his face. His presence is as imposing as it is discreet.

I take a step back, feeling suspicious, but at the same time intrigued by the way he looks at me. He holds me so that I don't fall into the lake and I pull my hand back, firmly.

“I don't need anything. Thank you”, I say, but my eyes remain on his, trying to decipher his posture and the intensity of his gaze.

He doesn't answer immediately, his eyes roam over my face, but not as a threat, but as if he's trying to read beyond what I'm showing him. The feeling bothers me but also makes me wonder what he could be thinking. How strange! Dom's right, the people here are insane.

“It's dangerous to be so close to the lake. You don't look well. Do you want me to call someone?”

“Who are you?”, I ask, firmly, without uncrossing my gaze from his

His expression is soft.

“How rude of me. I'm James Lambert. I know Jean and all the politicians there”, his French is perfect, but there's a subtle hint of a foreign accent, which makes me narrow my eyes.

“You're not from around here, are you?”, I ask, looking at him more closely.

“No”, he smiles, “New York. Have you been there?”

I shrug, not knowing for sure, but I don't know if I've ever been to New York. It's confusing and I try to hide my uncertainty. He watches me with an equally discreet but obvious curiosity. Something in his manner, in the way he seems to measure every word and every movement, awakens in me a strange sense of confidence. Me, the suspicious one? Before he can continue, Vlad's voice interrupts:

“Kiara!”, he approaches quickly, speaking into the point device, “It's all right, I've found her. It's not safe to stay away, especially near this lake!”, Vlad says, focusing his attention on me.

“He's right”, James adds, keeping that controlled tone, “It's dangerous and she's not feeling well.”

I look at him coldly, he has just destroyed my peace, which took me days to regain.

“What happened?”, Vlad asks, his concern evident.

“It was just a bad feeling, it's over now”, I try to minimize the situation.

Vlad remains suspicious but eventually agrees.

“I'll take you inside”, he gives James a puzzled look, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome”, James nods, his eyes still on me, as he walks away.

“I'll take you to Blanca, she was looking for you”, says Vlad, escorting me.

“She decided to show up? She just disappeared for the whole party!”

Along the way, I see a black zippo lying on the grass. I look around, without finding anyone nearby. I bend down and pick it up. Holding the lighter in my hand, I look at it carefully, noticing an initial engraved on it: the letter "C". I twist the object from one finger to the other, maneuvering it between my fingers. I close it in my hand.

“I don't think the owner will come back for it, will he?”, I say to Vlad.

“The way everyone's high inside? They won't even realize they've lost.”

We re-entered the mansion and before looking for Blanca or finding out where Dom had gone, we decided to have a look in the library. No one will mind. I accelerate my steps down the corridor and as I reach the large, high, closed double doors made of solid wood, I hear Eva's voice coming from inside, in a hysterical scream:

“Will you ever forgive me? You're going to let such a silly episode get in the way of our future?”

“There is no "our future". There is no future with you. My future doesn't have you in it”, Dominique's voice overpowers Eva's, “You know the damage you've done.”

The discussion seems intense between the two

“Dominique, stop being immoral! All you do is sow discord, chaos and pain wherever you go. Can't you understand that I did everything I did to protect our family?! Dom, you weren't sane, don't you understand?”

“No. I don't understand, and I never will. You've been a bitch and I'll never forgive you, no matter how hard I try!”

“Why, instead of blaming me, don't you go after René? Now there's no one to stop you staying with her. Go to London, stop playing house with a fucked-up amnesiac. Unworthy of licking the ground I walk on.”

Now I have her name and the least certainty that Eva has anything to do with what happened.

“Shut the fuck up! I've never hit you, no matter how much you deserve it, but if you talk about Kiara again, who's never done anything to you, the contrary, you're the one who's making her life hell because yours sucks, I'll forget that you're my sister and you're fucked!”, Dominique roars, and it's my moment.

I open the double doors at once. Both eyes turn to me. Eva measures me from head to toe, furious. I close the doors and cross my arms.

“I may be unworthy of licking the ground you walk on, but what about you, who's a whore?”, Dominique stays silent, looking at me as if to ask what I'm talking about, and I continue, “You cheated on your husband, I know who your lover is, and who knows which of the two is the father of your child?!”

I shout to Eva, who freezes, holding the martini in her hand.

“Shut up!”, Eva retorts, angrily.

“You have a lover? And I'm the immoral one?”, Dominique asks, irritated, but Eva ignores him, turning to me.

“You're getting into trouble with the wrong person! I'll finish you off with a snap of my fingers.”

“Do you think I'm afraid of you?”, I say, shoving her, “Do you want to shut me up? Shut up then!”, I slap my face, debauched.

The gesture has an effect. She throws the martini in my face and comes at me, but Dom gets in the way.

“What are you going to do, sue me?”, I'm still teasing, “You can't take three minutes of beating me up. The first nail you break, you give up.”

Dominique takes me in his arms as I struggle, cursing Eva over his shoulder.

“Treacherous! Cunning snake!”

“For once, you've ruined everything, Eva! I'm leaving, and fuck you! If you do anything, I'll let her break you”, says Dominique, supporting me.

“Put me down!”, I shout at Dom, who comes out of the library with me, “I didn't even have time to look at the books!”

Dom continues down the corridor, still carrying me in his arms. Over his shoulder, I see Blanca looking proud, Vlad worried, and Maurice ready to file the lawsuit. He puts me down and I'm furious, blood bubbling in my veins, still clutching the lighter in my hand.

“Eva made me drink a martini without you trying it! If I die…”, I start to speak, still panting.

“She dies too, because she was already drinking it”, Dom replies, holding my shoulders.

I release the heavy air.

“Let's go home…”, he says in a calm voice.

He guides me, and I feel my breathing slow down. I'm definitely unwell. My whole body is shaking, and my stomach is churning.

“High society is crying”, Maurice says walking past us and pointing at me proudly, the kind he's never addressed to me before.

We get into the car, and Vlad takes over the driving with Blanca next to him in the passenger seat, chatting animatedly with her, but Dom's silence is palpable, trapped in his thoughts. I, next to him, am distracted by the lighter, opening and closing the lid, while I twirl it between my fingers, not paying much attention to the conversation. I make the lighter slide between my fingers, as if it were dancing. Holding it between my index and middle finger, I slide it across the back of my hand and, with a quick flick of my wrist, the lighter jumps into the air. Before it falls, I twirl my fingers and snap it back into place, opening the lid with a soft pop. Tired, I felt my eyes closing and leaned against Dom, who put his arm around me, wrapping me in a protective embrace and eventually fell asleep.

I woke up with a yawn, still feeling relaxed. The sofa in the living room wraps me in warm comfort. I rub my eyes, adjusting my vision, look at the glass doors and notice the night outside. How long did I sleep?

I stand up, straightening the gray fabric of my short silk dress. On the coffee table, I see the lighter and my cell phone. On the floor, my sandals. The sound of the boys' laughter in the outdoor area invades the room, as they smoke and drink animatedly. Dom gesticulates, telling them something funny. Still drowsy, I go in search of water. I check the bar and realize there's no sealed bottle, so I make my way to the kitchen in slow steps.

 As I enter, I find Blanca and Angelina chatting while they cook. The scene intrigues me.

“Do you cook?”, I say in surprise.

“I cook, but I get lazy. Except I just had an energy drink and now I'm in full swing”, answers Blanca.

I go to the high stool and sit down, watching the two of them. One beats the dough, while the other greases the pan.

“Dominique said you weren't going to wake up today”, Blanca comments, as she tastes the pastry, “I'll add more chocolate.”

“I woke up to the laughter outside.”

“We left when they started making blonde jokes”, Blanca says, bored.

“Blan, will you get me some water, please?”

Blanca stops stirring the pasta and goes to the fridge, retrieves a sealed bottle and hands it to me. Angelina takes the kettle from the stove and comments:

“The tea is getting cold.”

I frown, a little confused.

“Tea on the cake? How awful.”

“It's marijuana!”, Blanca says, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

“Have you tried it? It's delicious”, Angelina gestures, excitedly, leaning against the worktop.

I shrug, still processing the information.

“I can't tell you.”

“Then you'll have a taste.”

“Only if Dominique tries it first, which I very much doubt he will”, Blanca comments with a provocative tone.

“I can try on my own”, my voice sounds firm, and Blanca's eyes widen.

“Of all the things to try, you're going to start with marijuana? You don't even know how your body will react. Angelina sneaked it here from Simon and there's Maurice outside. Not to mention the little mini satan who's sleeping upstairs”, Blanca's tone of concern is evident.

“I'm going to try it”, I declare, with a confidence that even I don't know where it comes from, “I have to start somewhere.”

Blanca holds my hand.

“I'll be with you, even if I disagree.”

Angelina pours the mixture into the pan and puts it in the oven. We continue chatting and I help them wash the dishes so that no traces remain. Blanca, ever cautious, takes some perfume out of her handbag and sprays it in the air, as if this could erase any trace of what we've just done. I wait anxiously, tapping my nails on the worktop, alternating my gaze between the girls and the oven. Angelina gets up, grabs a mitten and takes out the cake, placing it on the worktop. The dough looks like a typical chocolate cake, and she pours the icing that was in the bowl over it. I take a knife from the drawer and cut a piece for each of us. Blanca sets the plates and Angelina brings the forks. I stare at the slice in front of me, feeling the nervousness grow. My heart starts racing. I cut a generous piece, looking at Blanca next to me.

“Don't you want me to make you a sandwich? We could order a pizza... how about going out for dinner?”

Blanca suggests, in an attempt to make me give up. I roll my eyes, not wanting to think too much, because I know I'm one step away from abandoning this suicidal idea. My fingers start to tremble, and I swallow.

“Kiki, you don't have to do this now…”, Angelina comments, noticing my state.

“No! I need it and I’ll do it!”, I say, with more conviction than I really feel.

Blanca gives me an encouraging look, her green eyes fixed on mine.

“Then go.”

I bring the fork to my mouth all at once, feeling the delicious taste of chocolate mixed with grass. As I chew, I feel death approaching. As the cake goes down my throat, despair overwhelms my body. My eyes widened and I suddenly stand up, throwing my fork on the counter.

“Oh my God, Blanca, it’s coming back!”, I shout, rushing out of the kitchen and across the hall, while I hear Blanca's heels following me.

“Kiki!”

I open the door in front of the library, which is the toilet, and walk in, lifting the lid of the toilet. The nausea takes over my stomach, like a rising wave that turns into a whirlwind. The nausea is strong, a mixture of the taste of the cake and nervousness, and I feel as if my body is rebelling against me. The cake hasn't even had time to take effect and I'm already on my knees, holding onto the vase. The door closes.

“It's okay, calm down”, Blanca's voice sounds soft and she holds my hair carefully.

I can only remember the crepes, the exaggeration and how I shouldn't have tried to eat alone. The marijuana hasn't even arrived, and it's already gone. I finish and stand on my legs, lifting my torso. Blanca flushes.

“You were great! A big step”, she says, and I nod in agreement, exhausted.

“Blan, I need to lie down…”

“And I'm going home.”

Suddenly, the door opens wide and we are startled to see Dominique. He stares at us with a puzzled look on his face.

“See you tomorrow.”

Blanca says goodbye, walking past Dom. He closes the door behind her and, with a watchful gray gaze, walks over to me. His firm fingers hold my face.

“Are you all right, dolly?”

He asks, and I shake my head in denial before leaning my forehead against his body. I look at him, feeling the depth of his gaze, intense, as if he wanted to read me from the inside, and I'm trapped in that contact.

“I ate alone, but everything went wrong.”

“Really?”, he strokes my cheek with his thumb. “Why?”

“ I was desperate! I don't know what's wrong with me, Dom. But my body rejects it when I don't feel safe with what I eat.”

He nods in agreement.

“And what else?”

“The cake had marijuana in it”, I mutter, “But it didn't even have time to take effect…”

“Vlad told me when we arrived that you weren't well at the party. Why didn't you tell me?”

“There was no time. Fighting with Eva was more interesting…”

I answer, and he smiles and takes my hand

“Let's go upstairs.”

Dom puts his hand on my back, guiding me out of the restroom. In the corridor, he follows my steps. We cross to the living room, where I pick up my cell phone and we head to the elevator. His gray gaze is fixed on me with a slight concern.

“I think you'd better see a doctor.”

He says, pressing the button for the second floor as soon as we enter the elevator. I nod, watching the metal doors close.

“No need, I'm better. I really overdid it with the crepe today”, I reply, and he agrees.

“Still, it's best to see a doctor.”

“You have no moral standing to talk about doctors.”

“When it comes to you, yes, I do. If you're not better tomorrow, he'll come.”

I let out a disgruntled sigh as the doors open. I turn right towards my room, pushing the door open as I enter, and Dominique closes it as I pass. He throws himself on my bed, while I go for a quick shower and brush my teeth. When I return to the bedroom, with a white towel wrapped around my hair and a short red silk nightgown, I pass through the closet, seeing Bia the hen sitting on her goose feather nest. I pet her as I pass. My thoughts are a whirlwind, I can't stop thinking: Who is René? Who was she in Dominique's life? When I return to the bedroom, I find Dom lying on the bed, his arm resting on his head and his expression calm. I stare at him, unable to contain myself:

“Who is René?”

Dom sits on the bed, looking up and down at me. He gets up, surprised by my question and doesn't seem to like it at all.

“The woman who killed my son.”

He says with restrained anger, looking at me one last time before leaving the room. The information hits me, leaving me stunned. I could have imagined anything but that! My God, what horror! Suddenly, the atmosphere becomes dense, heavy. I take the towel out of my hair and throw it on the armchair. I grab my cell phone and run after him, hurrying my steps. As I pass through the door, I see him arriving at the elevator and press the button quickly.

“Dominique!”, I call out as the elevator arrives. He gets in, and I do the same, “You can't throw it like that and not tell the rest.”

“Oh, I can, Kiara.”

He presses the button for the top floor.

“Oh, no! Not fair! You'll lock yourself in that room and think that's the end of it.”

Dom seems to ignore me, and I cross my arms. When the elevator stops, we get out and I follow him. His strides are long down the corridor. He stops in front of the games room door, types the password into the number pad and I realize I was right all along: 1989. I hear the sound of the lock unlocking, and he lets me through. I look suspiciously at Dom, who nods, beckoning me in.

And I'm shaking from head to toe, this is a milestone in history. My heart is pounding. I never imagined that one day I would enter this room at Dominique's behest. And I figured out the password, didn't I? But I never had the courage to go in, not without him. I push open the armored door, entering the room and the light comes on automatically via the sensor. The room lights up in colorful tones, creating a state-of-the-art gamer atmosphere. The projector, also technological, connected to various video games, turns on by itself, stretching from one end of the room to the other. The comfortable U-shaped sofa faces the screen. Still in the open concept, I find a round game table with 12 modern, dark chairs. The entertainment here is top-notch. I hear Dom close the door, but I continue to look around.

On the other side, there is a snooker table with navy felt, complementing the room. Built-in shelving runs around the room, organizing different types of games. On one side are video games, on the other board games and cards. The space also has an elegant pantry, equipped with a fridge, a wine cellar with drinks of all kinds and an incredible en suite. The balcony is exclusive to the lounge and overlooks the property. This is paradise!

“Good evening, Dom. What would you like to play today?”, the female voice says through the speakers.

I feel Dom's arms come around me from behind, hugging me, and his nose brushes my neck. I close my eyes, enjoying the gesture and his touch. I place my hand over his, while the other holds his cell phone. I notice his heavy sigh, which makes my neck shiver.

“At one point in my life, I lived at parties and, at one of them, I met René. We got involved. It was nothing more than sex, but she got pregnant. It was a bombshell, because I didn't want anything to do with it, anything and neither did she. The only difference was that I wanted to be a father, it made sense to me. It was one of the best pieces of news of my life, really”, his tone is bitter, his voice hoarse, “And in the euphoria of the news, I told Eva”, I try to turn around, but Dom doesn't let me, still holding me back, “The second mistake was assuming that my sister would support my decision and not fuck everything up. But as always... she didn't think about how it would impact my life, and told my grandparents. It wasn't something I intended to tell them, I was trying to cope, and they found René. So they offered her a million to have an abortion.”

I feel my throat tighten and my chest ache in unimaginable ways.

“An innocent child was killed for greed... and René did it on the same day that the abortion was proposed. And, when she came to tell me what she had done, she took the opportunity to say that it was a boy. I'll never forgive any of them. And that murderer, if she steps foot in Monaco, she'll die. So, when I told you that I wouldn't make the mistake of losing you again, I meant that I'm not willing to lose you.”

I realize that I'm squeezing Dom's hand tightly, feeling the anger grow inside me, hardly believing what I'm hearing.

“I can't believe your sister thinks what she did was a silly mistake”, my voice is low.

“Eva thinks a lot of things that are out of touch with reality.”

“Is that why Maurice made that contract?”, I ask, turning around and raising my gaze to his.

His expression is neutral, but his eyes overflow with tension and the grayness, cloudier, more impenetrable every moment, leaving me trapped in him, as I always am.

“That was the reason. But I haven't told Maurice, nobody knows. Just me, Eva and now you. After what happened, I spent a great year in Italy and then went to university, where I fell headlong into business. I gave myself no room for doubt or regret. I molded myself to withstand anything. I control, I command, I have no mercy and I won't change.”

“So that's why you always try to push me away?”

Dom runs a hand through his hair and looks thoughtful. The insane life Dom leads, his possessiveness over everything he owns, the fact that he doesn't want to live with anyone, it's so clear to me now. The coldness with which he dominates every detail of his life, every person he dares to approach, it's all part of this wall he's built. Dom doesn't allow himself to be weak. He doesn't have the luxury of making mistakes or trusting. I understand now, it's as if he lives in constant conflict.

“ You…”, he strokes my cheek with his fingertips, the touch is light and unbearably slow, while his eyes hold me, “You're unlike anything I've ever seen. You're not part of it”, his voice is husky, low, and I feel the warmth spread through my body, “From the first moment, you trusted me. Everyone who knows me wouldn't trust me half as much, but you... even with everything that's been imposed on you so far…”, his fingers trail down my neck, teasing me and I can barely breathe.

“You haven't answered my question.”

My voice comes out lower than I expected, but I don't look away. He smiles sideways, a smile that teases and promises at the same time, and I realize how crazy I am.

“You know I do”, he leans in, his warm breath mingles with mine and for a moment, the space between us seems non-existent.

“I don't want you to push me away.”

“Be careful what you ask for, dolly”, his nose rubs against mine.

His nose brushes against mine and, in a second, his mouth brutally meets mine. I throw the phone on the sofa and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, while his hands go down to my ass, squeezing it hard and lifting me up with ease. My legs wrap around his hips, holding him tightly, while we kiss with an insatiable hunger.

He moves forward with me in his arms, with firm steps. He places me on the edge of the snooker table with one movement, without interrupting the kiss. Our tongues explore each other, suck each other, in delicious synchronicity. His hands squeeze my thighs, pulling me closer, while the tension between us expands as usual. My hands run to Dom's shirt, unbuttoning it with agility, while he unbuckles his belt. As soon as I've finished unbuttoning, I rip off his shirt in one go, running my hands down his torso, feeling his warm skin and the well-defined mass of his abdomen and muscles.

He pulls off my sweater, lays me on the table and I feel the cold surface against my back. He straddles me, sucking my skin and marking it from my neck to my navel, not letting an inch slip, turning his attention to my breasts, pulling the piercing with his teeth and circling it with his tongue. I feel my body melt. His nimble hands remove my panties and throw them away. Dom bends down and thrusts himself between my legs, sucking me hard, making my head spin. I close my eyes, moaning loudly, as he holds me firmly by the ankles, spreading my legs wider, leaving me completely exposed. He sucks my clit masterfully, and I clench my fingers on the table, trying to contain the overwhelming pleasure that surges through me.

My body writhes uncontrollably, and Dom slows down his movements, still sure, making circles while I squeeze my breasts with my hands. The intensity of his licks on my sex makes me lose control, and I can't hold back an orgasm that rips through me overwhelmingly. My belly contracts and a cry escapes my lips. I gasp, in the throes of pleasure, squeezing my eyes shut as my whole body shakes with the edge. My breathing quickens and my body is sensitive to him.

“You really don't learn, do you?”, he says, standing up.

I sit at the table, watching him. His gaze shines, explicit with desire. I see him walk to the pantry, pick up a glass from the marble countertop and go to the fridge, pressing the device so that the ice falls into the container. Still trying to catch my breath, I see Dom return with his hair messy, his torso bare and his tailored pants open, revealing his white boxers. Our gazes meet. I let out a mischievous smile, making my intentions clear, and I'm ready to take my punishment, whatever it may be.

He places his glass on the table and removes his black belt from the belt loop, keeping his gaze fixed on me. I swallow in anticipation, and let out a slow breath, feeling a chill run down my spine.  His gray eyes stare at me intensely.

“You'd like that, wouldn't you? But no…”, he says harshly.

I look at him, frustrated.

“Hands forward”, he orders.

I do it, without hesitation. He slips the belt around my wrists, tightening the leather and securing me in a firm knot. He grabs my chin and kisses me, his mouth firmly invading mine, and I reciprocate, trying to reach him with my arms, but he rebuffs me, pushing me back in a single movement, positioning my arms over my head.

Picking up an ice cube, he keeps his gaze fixed on mine, serious.

“If you move, no hazelnut cream for two weeks.”

I try to pull my arms away, turning them sideways.

“You wouldn't do that... Dom!”, I whisper, my eyes widening.

“Do you doubt it?”, his tone is suggestive.

He brings the ice cube to his mouth and leans over me, without giving me time to hit back. The first touch of the ice triggers a series of sensations. The shock of the cold makes my whole body shiver, and not moving is an almost impossible challenge. My breath comes out between my lips in a string. The icy trail slides across my flat belly, and I close my eyes slowly, as the cube continues its journey guided by Dom's mouth, who leads it to my ribcage. The mixture of numbness and sensitivity makes every inch of my body react.

The ice reaches the tip of my breast, and he passes the cube through my piercing, eliciting a moan. His fingers slide along my sex, which is sensitive and aroused. I can't hold back my hips, and I roll over, looking for more, desperate for contact, for him. I can't control it.  Dom holds my waist tightly, preventing any movement. He raises his head, spits the ice off the table, and his countenance is one of disbelief.

Dom stands up, taking me with him, holding me tight, and I wrap my legs around his hips while he sucks my lips.

He leads me over to the sofa, throwing me down on the upholstery, removing his pants along with his boxers and revealing his hard, inviting cock. I moisten my lips, spreading my legs eagerly. He positions himself between them, pulling my thighs towards himself and thrusting in all at once, making my body arch and squeeze him inside me. His movements are rough and sure, his hand holding my neck, pressing it against the sofa and making the air scarce. Adrenaline bubbles through my bloodstream as he smashes my skin with hard, burning slaps, making me roll my eyes with the pleasure of the delicious pain I feel.

A knock on the door interrupts us, and our gazes lock. He loosens his grip on my neck, without stopping his rapid movements, and I feel the air return little by little.

“Dom, we're going to sleep here, okay?”, Louis' voice shouts from the other side.

“Yes!”, Dom replies, visibly agonizing.

I let out a laugh at the situation, but he covers my lips with his hand, as I squeeze him even tighter inside me, watching him close his eyes in pleasure.

“Is everything all right in there?”, Louis' voice asked, puzzled.

“Get the fuck out!”, Dom growls, irritated.

I circle my hips, following his movements. My skin is sweaty, and the look of pleasure on Dominique's face turns me on even more. He removes his hand from my mouth and kisses me, a kiss full of affection and intensity, and my heart speeds up even more, if that's possible.

Dom pulls away just enough to run his mouth down my neck, biting and sucking my skin, leaving marks, while his thrusts slow in pace, but not in precision. My skin becomes more and more sensitive, and the sensation of pre-orgasm consumes me. Each bite on my skin, each thrust increases the intensity, making me gasp into his mouth as he kisses me again. Waves of electricity run through my body, sending shivers down my spine. My breathing is irregular, my heart is racing, and my sex is pulsating under Dom's domination, who knows exactly what to do to leave me at his mercy.

I lose control and orgasm, my body collapsing, my mind foggy, as an ecstatic moan escapes my lips. Dominique's hands squeeze me, driving his fingers hard into my waist, growling, as he gives me one last thrust before filling me with his cum. His breathing is panting, as is mine, his lips brushing against mine, as he pulls out of me.

“You've lost. You'll be two weeks without hazelnut cream”, Dom says, satisfied.

“You did it on purpose!”, I protest, receiving a cynical smile in response.

“It's for you to improve your diet”, Dominique says, sitting down next to me with an expression that doesn't seem open to negotiation, “Your stash hidden in your hair creams has been discovered, and the fine is to have it confiscated.”

I put my hand up to my face, in disbelief. I kiss him one last time and pull away just enough to keep his gray gaze on mine.

“Do you want to know who your sister's lover is?”

“Damn, do you really know?”, he says, with surprise in his eyes.

“I have photos, as well as facts.”

I stretch out my body, reaching for the soft upholstery, looking for my cell phone between its openings, not sure where it ended up when I threw it.

“Found it.”

Dominique leans over me, not missing the opportunity to squeeze my ass, sinking his fingers into it, and picking it up off the floor. He hands me the cell phone and I settle back on top of him, my back against his chest.

“You have no idea about this”, I say, unlocking the screen with my fingerprint and going to the photo gallery, scrolling my finger until I find the sequence, “That's why I burned your birthday cake. Blanca arrived with this information and threw it like that, without any preparation. And that's how I'm going to show you too…”

In the first photo, a selfie of Eva with the naughtiest smile I've ever seen. Thierry, behind her, holds her bare breasts with his hands while nibbling on her ear. His gaze is that of a predator. The caption: Longing for this day, love. I flick my finger to the side and reveal the second photo to Dom. The two of them, full body, in a huge mirror, facing each other and his hand holding her ass. In the third photo, Eva is holding her phone, looking into the mirror while Thierry kisses her pregnant belly, with an expression of accomplishment and undeniable pride.

“And it was because of this photo that I wondered who Charles' father was... he seems happy to know that he's the father, doesn't he?”

“The crumpled chin, the small, squinty eyes... they're Thierry's. Holy shit! The guy's getting it on with a married woman... and the married woman is Eva…”, Dom comments, his expression one of shock, “How did you find out about this?”, he asks, trying to hold back a laugh.

“Remember when I went ahead to go to Tourette's? I took his cell phone before I got in the car so Blanca could call Maurice and get the address. She went through Thierry's cell phone and found out everything. Then she took these photos with Vlad's cell phone and sent them to herself, since she didn't have a cell phone. A few days later, she showed them to me... your sister was lucky... it was very close that I didn't drop this bombshell, she deserved it. But I wanted you to know beforehand, because as I said, I didn't intend to get involved, but after what you've told me…”

Dom takes the cell phone from my hand and selects photo after photo, sending each one to him.

“I'm going to torment their lives”, Dom says, with a smile, turning to my cell phone.

Dominique flicks his fingers to the side and keeps looking at my photos, amused, commenting, and when he moves on to the next one, his eyes widen when he sees one that was just for Blanca and me. A batch of a hundred sealed jars of hazelnut cream on my bed. It was the day I went to Paris, and he stayed here, dying of flu. We dumped a few boxes on the bed, and I lay on top of it, showing off, and Blanca took lots of photos.

“You yourself have proof that you're gorging yourself on sweets”, I turn towards him, facing him again, holding his face between my hands, focusing my attention on his gray eyes.

“It's not all mine. 10 are Blanca's.”

Dom closes his eyes briefly in exhaustion, tossing his cell phone aside, tightening his fingers around my waist, staring at me with a hard-on. I run my tongue over his lips, diverting his attention from the subject, showing him that there are much more interesting things to do besides being right about my overindulgence in hazelnut cream. But it's not my fault, it's bigger than me!

“Come here…”, he holds my hair firmly, bringing me to him with a decisive tug.

His mouth meets mine with intensity, igniting me again, his tongue brushing against mine, soft at first, exploring, tasting, driving me crazy, transforming the instant into depth and urgency. His hands slide around the back of my neck, pulling me even closer to him and I bite his lip, eager to start all over again.