Celeste’s smile faded the mont Dominic said that. She took a slow step forward, and sat up.
Dominic’s hands slid back into his pockets as his eyes fell to the floor with sothing unreadable.
"Co with ," he said quietly. There was no edge nor urgency in his voice. He simply sounded deliberate. As if he’d been rehearsing this mont in his head longer than he wanted to admit.
She blinked. "Where?"
She didn’t want to be slapped by another train of his casual past eting up with her, and staring at her with knives.
He t her gaze again. "To my study."
Celeste’s brows furrowed, but she followed him. The path to his study felt heavier than usual, like the walls could feel it. The air shifted. Sothing was off.
He opened the door and stepped aside for her to enter first. She did, and he closed it behind them.
Dominic moved to the far side of the room and pulled out a slim, matte black file from the drawer of the heavy oak desk. He placed it gently on the table, like it was laced with explosives.
Then, with a slow breath, he pushed it toward her.
"Open it."
She looked at him, confusion tightening her brows, but her fingers moved anyway. When she flipped open the cover, her heart imdiately stalled.
There was a picture of her. The date read it was from two years ago. She was walking out of a coffee shop, phone in one hand, iced drink in the other, headphones in.
Then another.
And another.
Then, she saw her details. Her full na. Her age. Date of birth. Blood type. A record of her mother’s death. Her father’s sudden disappearance. Her academic records. dical notes. Favorite restaurants. Weekly al orders. Her height.
Her breathing beca unsteady. Her hands trembled as she turned each page.
"What is this?" she whispered. "What the hell is this, Dominic?"
He didn’t co closer. "I had to."
"You had to?" Her voice broke.
"When I found out you were with Landon," his voice stayed painfully calm, "I needed to know who you were. What you wanted. What he wanted with you."
She stepped back, the file still in her hand like it was burning through her skin. "So you had investigated? Like I was so threat?"
"Not a threat," he corrected, gently. "A risk. And you were too close to Landon. That alone made you a variable I couldn’t ignore."
"This is sick." Her voice cracked, but she didn’t cry. Her mind was a warzone of shock, betrayal, fear, confusion.
"It was two years ago. Long before I knew you for who you are."
She lifted her head slowly. Her voice was cold. "No. You didn’t know . You watched . You knew everything about . You stalked ."
He frowned. "That’s not what this was."
"Then tell what it was, Dominic!" she snapped. "My life was private. My past, my family, even the way I like my coffee. You had it all printed like a damn resu! Do you know what you just did?"
He took a step forward, but she flinched. He stopped.
"It wasn’t personal."
She laughed bitterly. "Oh, it is personal to ! My mother’s death is personal. My abandonnt issues are personal. And you—you—sat behind a desk, read it all, and still looked in the face when we first t like we were strangers."
He ran a hand down his jaw, then looked up at her again. "I didn’t expect to fall for you. I didn’t expect you to be anything more than an oversight I had to handle. But then you walked into my house, and..."
She stared at him. "What if all of this had been preditated? The kiss? Us? What if you set it all up just because you already knew everything about ?" Her hands balled into fists. "You violated ."
"Celeste—"
"Don’t. Just don’t."
The silence that followed was brutal. She stared down at the pages again. Her photos. Her life. Every detail, archived like a case file.
"I trusted you," she said
She stepped back.
"Celeste, listen to . When I heard Landon’s na connected to you, I had to know who you were. I had to know what he was planning." He tried to reason with her.
Her voice broke, and lost weight. "You didn’t have to stalk !"
"I had to protect my family."
"Don’t you dare throw that excuse at !" Her voice was trembling now. "You had my whole life in a file! My mother’s death? My father’s disappearance? What I ate for lunch? Do you know how that makes feel? Like I—like I was prey. Like none of this was real."
"Celeste."
"Did you plan the kiss?" She brought the question up again.
"No! No, damn it. I didn’t even see you like that until months later. The first ti I saw you, yes, I ordered a background check. It was business. It had to be business. But the mont I looked beyond those pages, I saw you. And none of this was planned. None of what ca after was planned."
She was still trembling. "You should have told ."
"You would have run."
"And maybe I should have." She snarled.
Silence blood between them like a bruise.
Dominic rounded the desk. "Celeste, I know how this looks. I know how this feels. But you have to believe when I say I never touched that file again. Not after that day. Not after I t you, really t you. It haunted . But I couldn’t destroy it. It was a reminder of what I never want to beco again."
She stared at him, her body frozen. She couldn’t cry. She wasn’t even sure she could feel anything.
"You watched . You had people watch . For how long? Weeks? Months? Did they report when I laughed? When I kissed Landon? Did they tell you when I cried?"
His face contorted. "I deserved that. Maybe I deserved worse."
"Why show this now?"
"Because I promised you no more secrets."
Reviews
All reviews (0)