Chapter 84 

Dominic’s POV 

My hands still shook. 

Not from the punches I’d thrown, or the fury I’d unleashed, but from the haunted look in Aria’s eyes when I grabbed her face. 

I clenched my fists tighter, pacing my office as if movement could chase away the darkness swirling inside me. Each step echoed with the chaos in my head, Nico’s taunting voice replaying endlessly. 

You’re hurting her. You’re so fucking blind. 

My jaw tightened until it ached. 

He wasn’t wrong. That’s what burned most. 

Aria’s tears, the softness of her trembling lips, the way she flinched beneath my grip–every detail replayed like a nightmare. How had I let it get this far? I’d sworn to protect her, yet it was my own hand leaving bruises. 

I’d crossed a line. I’d promised myself never again–after Victoria, after the scars that betrayal left behind. And yet, I was doing the same thing all over again. 

Suffocating someone I loved until they hated me. 

I stopped abruptly, gripping the edge of my desk, eyes squeezing shut. Love. Was that what this was? A twisted, 

destructive love that destroyed everything it touched? 

Was that what I’d become? 

Victoria’s betrayal had shattered something deep inside me. I thought I’d locked those memories away, buried beneath cold, hard control. Yet now, Nico’s words haunted me. Had I truly let her go? Or had she left, dragging my heart behind her? 

Was that the source of this madness? 

My door swung open suddenly, breaking my spiral of thoughts. I turned sharply, irritation flickering through my eyes–until! saw her. 

Aria stood there, slender frame trembling, eyes wide but blazing with something fierce. Hurt. Anger. Fear. 

All directed at me. 

“Aria,” I murmured, voice ragged with guilt. “I-” 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” she said, voice quivering but determined. “You shouldn’t have hit him like that, Dominic.” 

My chest tightened painfully. “He betrayed me, Aria.” 

Her fists clenched at her sides, tears pooling in her eyes. “And that justifies nearly beating him to death?” 

I looked away, jaw tightening. “He crossed a line. He touched you. He kissed you-” 

“I didn’t kiss him back!” she shouted, voice shaking. “You think I asked for this? You think I asked for any of this? He made a mistake and you should have allowed him exomaub. You didn’t.” 

Her voice broke at the end, the pain raw enough to split me in two. I stepped toward her, instinct driving me to comfort, but she flinched away sharply. 

“Don’t,” she whispered. “Just don’t.” 

My heart shattered. The one person I’d sworn never to hurt was now looking at me like I was a monster. Perhaps I was. 

“I was wrong,” I admitted quietly. “I should’ve handled it better. But Nico isn’t innocent.” 

She shook her head, eyes wide, disbelief flickering. “That doesn’t matter. It doesn’t give you the right to become this.” 

I felt my composure cracking, desperation slipping through. “Aria, everything I’ve done was to protect you-” 

She laughed bitterly, tears streaming down her cheeks now. “Protection? Is that what you call it? Grabbing me so hard it hurts? Threatening everyone who dares to even look at me? Is this how you protect?” 

My voice was strained, emotion barely restrained. “I don’t know any other way. This is who I am, Aria.” 

Her eyes softened slightly, heartbreakingly. “Then maybe that’s the problem.” 

The silence hung between us, suffocating, painful. 

“Is it Nico?” I asked finally, unable to keep the jealousy from darkening my voice. “Has he gotten into your head?” 

She shook her head slowly, almost sadly. “This isn’t about Nico. It’s about you. About us. About how far this has gone. You‘ re losing yourself, Dominic, and you’re dragging me down with you.” 

I took another step closer, voice lowering desperately. “Aria, please….tell me what to do.” 

She met my gaze, eyes filled with sorrow, disappointment. “You know what to do. Let me breathe. Stop holding me like a 

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Chapter 84 

prisoner. Stop punishing everyone else because you’re afraid.” 

My chest tightened at the truth of her words, but I couldn’t deny it. “Afraid?” My voice was raw, vulnerable, a word I rarely allowed myself to feel. “Yes, Aria. Terrified. Of losing you. Of watching you suffer because I wasn’t strong enough.” 

She exhaled shakily, voice trembling. “But can’t you see? You’re making me suffer right now.” 

Her words struck hard, cutting deeper than any physical blow ever could. I felt my entire façade crumble. 

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I don’t know how to love without holding on too tightly. Without hurting. Victoria–she ruined me. Made me think the only way to keep something was to cage it.” 

Aria stared at me silently for a long moment, the quiet broken only by her uneven breathing. Slowly, cautiously, she moved toward me. Not close enough to touch, but enough to bridge the painful gap. 

“I’m not Victoria,” she whispered gently. “You can’t keep treating me like I am. I won’t betray you–but if you keep holding me like this, you’ll destroy us both.” 

I watched her, chest aching, desperate to reach for her, to promise I could change, that I would–but the words caught in my throat. 

“I never wanted this,” I admitted finally, voice broken. “Never wanted to hurt you. But it feels like I’m losing control.” 

She swallowed hard, tears drying slowly against her cheeks. “Then let go a little, Dominic. Trust me enough to let me stand beside you instead of being beneath your thumb.” 

I nodded slowly, pain etched deep into every feature. “I don’t know if I know how.” 

She reached out gently this time, fingers trembling as they brushed lightly against mine. “Then learn. For us. For yourself.” 

I held my breath, savoring her hesitant touch. It was small, delicate, but it felt like forgiveness. Like a chance at redemption. 

“Nico said something,” she whispered hesitantly, eyes downcast, nervous. “He said you did let go once. Of Victoria.” 

I tensed immediately, memories flooding painfully back, threatening to drown me. “Victoria left me. Betrayed me.” 

“But you survived,” she pressed softly, eyes searching mine. “You let her go. Maybe you can trust yourself to loosen your grip again. With me.” 

My voice was tight, barely audible. “What if you leave?” 

Her gaze softened, honest and vulnerable. “What if I stay?” 

The question hung between us, heavy with possibility, fear, and hope. She didn’t promise forever. She didn’t need to. All she asked was that I trust enough to let go, to give her the chance to choose–to stay because she wanted to, not because I’d trapped her. 

Slowly, hesitantly, I raised my hand, fingertips brushing her cheek gently, far softer than before. 

“Give me time,” I murmured hoarsely. “I’ll try.” 

She nodded, a faint, gentle smile breaking through the pain. “That’s all I ask.” 

And for the first time, I realized–perhaps holding on didn’t mean gripping so tightly. Perhaps true strength was trusting enough to loosen your grip, even when terrified. 

Perhaps love wasn’t about control. 

Maybe it was learning how to let go. 

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