Dominic's pov:I stood by the window in the office, staring out at the city below. The streets were bustling with life, but inside my chest, everything felt still. Suzanne had left for her checkup, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.I had barely been able to focus the past couple of days—working from home had been a welcome distraction, but I knew I couldn’t stay away for much longer. But today, the thought of leaving her alone was gnawing at me. She was pregnant with our child, and everything had felt so fragile lately.She had insisted that I go back to work. The way she’d smiled, that soft, understanding smile, had made me feel torn. She didn’t want me hovering, and I respected that. But still... a part of me wanted to keep her close, to be the one taking her to every doctor’s appointment and holding her hand through everything.I picked up my phone, seeing her text from a few minutes ago. I’m fine, don’t worry. She was always so strong, always so com
Dominic’s pov:The drive to the hospital was the longest of my life.My knuckles were white on the steering wheel as I weaved through traffic, barely aware of the horns blaring around me. My mind kept replaying the officer’s words.‘Unconscious. Run off the road.’Was it just an accident? Or was this something more?A sickening dread curled in my stomach.I pulled into the hospital parking lot so fast that I nearly clipped the curb. Throwing the car into the park, I jumped out, not even bothering to lock it.I rushed through the hospital doors, scanning the crowded reception area with frantic eyes.“Suzanne Khan,” I barked at the nurse behind the desk. “She was in a car accident. Where is she?”The woman gave me a wary glance before quickly checking the system."She was brought in a few minutes ago," she said. "She’s in the ER. Take the hallway to the left and check in at the nurses’ station."I didn’t wait for more instructions. I was already moving, my heart slamming against my rib
Dominic’s pov:I sat beside Suzanne’s hospital bed, my fingers tangled with hers, my body heavy with exhaustion. The beeping of the monitors was the only sound in the room, steady and cruel.She hadn’t moved.Hadn’t stirred.She lay there, pale, fragile—too fragile.I had seen her angry. I had seen her fight. I had seen her push through pain and heartbreak with fire in her eyes. But I had never seen her like this. Motionless. Defenseless.And it killed me.I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my forehead against her hand.I would have given anything for her to open her eyes and scold me for hovering. To tell me I was being ridiculous. To roll her eyes when I told her I wasn’t leaving her side.But she didn’t.And I hated that I couldn’t fix this.The door creaked open behind me, but I didn’t move. I knew it was the doctor. He had been in and out since she was brought in, checking her vitals, reading charts, and giving me medical updates that I barely processed.But this time, something
Suzanne’s pov:A dull, persistent beeping pulled me from the darkness.I felt weightless, as if I were floating between dreams and reality, lost in the void. My eyelids were heavy, too heavy to lift, but I could hear the faint hum of voices, the rustling of fabric, the sterile scent of antiseptic filling my nose.Something was wrong.Then I felt it, Pain. A dull, aching throb in my abdomen. A heavy weight in my chest made it difficult to breathe.I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to stay in the darkness a little longer. I didn’t want to wake up. I didn’t want to face whatever was waiting for me on the other side of consciousness.The weight in my chest tightened, squeezing my ribs, making each breath feel shallow and restrained. A strange emptiness coiled inside me, a cold, suffocating hollowness that I couldn’t place—but I knew.Deep down, I knew.I forced my fingers to move, twitching slightly against the warmth of a hand wrapped around mine.A sharp inhale.“Suzanne?”The
Dominic’s pov:I hadn’t moved from her bedside.The sterile walls of the hospital room blurred around the edges, and the beeping machines faded into white noise.All I could see was her. Suzanne. Lying there, pale and too still, like some fragile thing that might disappear if I blinked too long.She was asleep again. Resting, finally.The doctor had said it would take a few days for her body to recover from the trauma, but at least she was stable. Awake enough to speak earlier… to ask about the baby.That moment wouldn’t stop replaying in my head.The way her eyes searched mine, already knowing the answer… The way her voice cracked when she asked if the baby made it… And the way her face shattered from my silence.I let out a sharp breath and dragged my hand down my face.I should’ve been celebrating an heir.That was the point of this whole arrangement, wasn’t it? A contract marriage.She would give me a child. An heir. In return, I’d give her security, freedom from her past, and t
Dominic’s pov:The moment the doctor cleared Suzanne for a discharge, I made the call.Everything had to be perfect, not out of vanity, but necessity. She was too fragile, physically and emotionally. And I wasn’t going to let her waste away in a place that smelled like bleach and death.Called the best private doctor I knew—a discreet, competent woman with decades of experience in post-trauma recovery.I didn’t want Suzanne surrounded by nurses she didn’t know, by strangers who would pity her. She needed care, yes. But more than that, she needed peace.I supervised every detail. The doctor would stay on call for the next few weeks.Her medications. Her room. The lighting. The scent.I had them change the curtains twice until they looked soft enough not to feel like hospital whites.I cleared our shared room entirely out of the options. She wouldn’t go back there. Not yet. The guest room in the east wing had been converted into a private sanctuary. Quiet, warm, no reminders.She hadn’
Suzanne's pov:Recovery is quiet. Not peaceful, just quiet.There are no loud voices, no footsteps rushing down the halls.No beeping monitors or sterile hospital lights overhead. Just the sound of curtains swaying in the soft afternoon breeze, and the occasional murmur of Maria, the housekeeper, humming downstairs.Dominic had brought in a private doctor.I remember catching a glimpse of her that first morning, sharp brown eyes behind gold-rimmed glasses, her grey-streaked hair pulled into a neat bun.She was in her fifties at least, her presence calm but commanding, like she’d seen too much to be shaken by anything now.She moved with certainty, spoke with clarity, and treated me like a person, not a patient.She never hovered. Her nurses, clearly handpicked by her, were quiet, graceful, and never stayed longer than they needed to.They administered meds, checked my vitals, and then left. Always respectfully, always gently.It’s been four days now.Four days since I came home. Sinc
Dominic’s pov:The moment I saw his name on the screen, something in me shifted. The silence in the study shattered—not by sound, but by the weight of what I saw.Tavon.He had the audacity to call. Not a message. Not send some twisted little whisper. He called.I picked it up without hesitation, pressing the phone to my ear, but I didn’t speak. Let him talk first. Let him feel brave for a moment.His voice came through, coated in that smug, juvenile arrogance I’d come to associate with him.“Ah,” he drawled. “So you’re still picking up my calls. I thought the great Dominic Khan would’ve blocked me by now.”Still, I didn’t speak.He laughed, a short, grating sound. “Silent treatment? Cute. You know, I saw the photos. Her face looks paler these days. Fragile. She always did look better when she was with me.”My grip tightened around the phone. Not a word. Not yet.“But what’s really tragic,” he continued, “is that she lost your baby, didn’t she? That little heir you signed her up
Dominic’s pov:I didn’t realize how long I’d been sitting in that chair.The office was dark now, painted in shadows, the only light spilling in from the city skyline beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows.The once-busy hum of staff had long since faded.Phones stopped ringing. Emails went unanswered. Even the steady ticking of the antique clock on the wall felt like it was echoing louder than it should.I hadn’t moved since the ruling.My fingers were still clenched around the edge of the armrest, knuckles bleached white. I felt detached from my body, like I was a ghost hovering above myself, watching the slow unravelling of a man who’d never been allowed to lose before.My heartbeat thudded in my ears like war drums, but everything else was quiet.Too quiet.The courtroom played like a reel in my mind, frame by brutal frame.Linda’s entrance is like a queen returning to a throne that never belonged to her.The judge was already in her pocket.The smug politicians, their loyalty boug
Dominic’s pov:The courtroom wasn’t unfamiliar to meI’d been in and out of them for years, lawsuits, zoning battles, acquisition disputes.But this one was different. This wasn’t about money, or concrete, or blueprints.This was personal!!!I walked in, flanked by Peter Black and Ford.The weight of tailored silence followed me.My presence was enough to make heads turn and mouths shut. Cameras lined the marble corridor outside. Linda wanted the media circus. She wanted the public eye. She was probably somewhere smiling already.My eyes scanned the room.She was already seated, radiant in a navy pantsuit that hugged her curves like sin, her golden hair pinned in a deliberately messy chignon that made her look effortlessly powerful.Her lips curled when our gazes locked like this was a game and she had the upper hand.I didn’t blink. I didn’t give her the satisfaction of a smirk or a glare.The judge entered, an aging man named Harold R. Linley.I’d met him years ago. Back then, he w
Dominic’s pov: The envelope wasn’t hand-delivered. That would’ve been too loud. Too messy. Too traceable.Instead, it came folded in thick ivory paper, nestled inside a black leather folder and passed to me by Desmond, who looked as if he’d seen a ghost.“It’s from her,” he said grimly. “Linda.”I took it. No expression. No words. The weight of it was heavier than the folder itself.I cracked it open, my hands steady even as my heart slammed against my ribs.A formal letterhead. A lawyer’s name I recognized was Greaves & Hanley. One of the most vicious corporate litigation firms on the East Coast.I scanned the first page. Then the second. My jaw tightened with every line.She was filing for administrative control over Khan Architectural.Citing “neglect of fiduciary duties,” “executive mismanagement,” and “shareholder endangerment.”Bullshit. Crafted, polished, and loaded with legal jargon, but still bullshit.Desmond was already pacing behind me. “She’s aiming for a hostile takeo
Linda’s pov:The rooftop bar was empty, private, exclusive, and overlooking the glowing skyline.The kind of place reserved for power plays and whispered betrayals.A steady wind tugged at my silk coat as I crossed the deck toward Tavon, who sat alone in the corner booth with a glass of whiskey in hand like a man planning a revolution.I didn’t sit immediately.I stood at the railing, overlooking the city as if it were mine to command.In a way, it still was. These buildings, these men, these stories? I’d been part of their foundations long before they started pretending I didn’t matter.“Took you long enough,” Tavon muttered, not even glancing up.I finally turned, sliding into the seat across from him like I owned the night. “I had to make sure I wasn’t followed. Dominic’s hounds are everywhere these days.”He smirked. “That’s because he knows someone’s playing chess with his life. I crossed my legs, fingers toying with the gold chain at my throat. “He will soon.”“What’s this meet
Dominic’s pov:The conference room was silent, eerily so.The only sound was the soft hum of the AC and the occasional click of Desmond’s fingers flying across his laptop as he mirrored the contents of the flash drive onto the secure screen.Everyone watched the black window flicker to life, revealing what looked like simple folders. Just names. Some were labelled “Suzanne.” Others, “Dominic K” One was marked Contract in bold.My jaw clenched.Desmond’s eyes narrowed. “Something’s wrong.”Ford stood from the corner, arms folded. “It’s too clean. Too organized. This wasn’t put together by Linda.”Desmond nodded slowly, fingers halting over the keys. “It’s a decoy.”I stepped forward. “Open it.”“I’m not sure that’s a good—”“Do it,” I ordered. My voice echoed in the room, hard as steel.He clicked.At first, the folder opened like a normal file.A few documents popped up, screenshots, edited contracts, and old bank records that meant nothing. But then Desmond’s entire screen flickered
Dominic’s pov:The boardroom was filled with chatter, screens glowing as Ford gave his report. I sat at the head of the table, my gaze unreadable, jaw tight, arms crossed.The room buzzed with low voices, papers rustling as updates rolled out, but my mind wasn’t fully in it.Not after the message Desmond forwarded earlier this morning, an anonymous tip about a possible breach in our private server.I’d already ordered the team to trace the source. My gut told me it wasn’t random, not with how quiet Tavon had been lately.And Suzanne… the way she looked last night, wrapped in my sheets, clinging to sleep like it was her only safe place… I couldn’t get it out of my head.She hadn’t said much this morning, but her eyes said everything. She needed peace. And I would burn the whole world to give it to her.“Dominic?” Ford asked, catching my attention.I blinked once. “Continue.”The glass windows overlooking the city reflected a pristine skyline, one I had built, piece by piece. Brick by
Suzanne’s pov:I was curled up in the armchair beside the balcony doors, one of Dominic’s throw blankets wrapped around my shoulders… The soft rumble of distant waves rolled through the partially opened doors, the morning sun casting faint golden streaks across the marble floors.I wasn’t reading. I wasn’t scrolling. I was just… sitting. Letting the quiet be enough.Everything about last night still lingered, his hands, his breath, the way he looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that made sense.After everything that had shattered between us, something felt stitched back together, like some part of me that had gone numb was warm again.Still fragile, still trembling at the edges, but healing.My fingers traced slow circles over the fabric on my lap.I hadn’t spoken to Dominic yet this morning.He’d gone to handle some business, or so he’d said when he left our bed at dawn.But he didn’t leave like a man escaping. He kissed my forehead, tucked the blanket around me, a
Tavon’s pov:The text had come at dawn. No name. Just a number I hadn't seen in months. But I knew that tone. Sharp. Calculated. Dangerous.“We both know how much your pride matters. But if you don’t pick up my call, I’ll send your precious videos to your mother first. Then your church group.”Fiona.I stared at the message for a full minute, my mind still foggy from the restless night before.The audacity. She really had the nerve to crawl back from whatever cave she’d vanished into, after ruining everything and leaving me like a fool.I let the phone ring twice when she finally called. Just to let her wait.Then I answered. “You got some balls, showing up now.”Her voice came in cool, unbothered. “You always did like my balls better than your own.”I chuckled bitterly. “Still a bitch, I see.”“And you’re still a fool. So nothing’s changed.” She didn’t laugh. “But let’s not waste time with banter. You know why I’m calling.”I slumped deeper into the leather seat of my rented apartme
Dominic’s pov:The morning light seeped through the curtains like a silent witness to the night before. Golden slivers danced across the sheets, casting faint shadows over the woman lying beside me.Suzanne.Her breathing was soft, steady—peaceful in a way I hadn’t seen in a long time. Her lashes fluttered slightly, lost in whatever world sleep had drawn her into.I sat up slowly, careful not to wake her. My hand braced against the mattress, muscles tensing as I watched her for a long moment. There was something sacred about this quiet. A rare pause in the chaos.But peace had never been mine to keep.I brushed a thumb across her cheek, lingering just long enough to memorize the softness there. And then I rose from the bed. The cold air met my skin like a jolt back to reality, to everything I’d tried to bury in the heat of last night.Tavon.That bastard’s voice still echoed in my head. “Let’s see how loyal he stays when he sees the real you…”I clenched my jaw, grabbing a clean s