Chapter 103 

I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong. 

This wasn’t a game. It wasn’t a subtle flirtation, a calculated risk to prove something to myself–or to Dominic. No, it had spiraled into something darker, something far more dangerous than I ever imagined. 

Dominic held Antonio pinned against the wall, his hand locked ruthlessly around his throat. Antonio’s eyes bulged, desperate and terrified. His frantic gasps echoed through the sudden silence of the ballroom. Blood stained his collar, the skin around his neck turning an ugly shade of purple. 

“Dominic, please!” My voice was shaking now, edged with panic. I clawed at his arm, tugging desperately, but his grip was immovable, his strength terrifying. “You’re going to kill him!” 

Dominic didn’t hear me. Or if he did, he didn’t care. 

His face was contorted, nearly unrecognizable in his fury. Gone was the controlled, calculated man I’d come to know–this Dominic was savage, wild, a creature unleashed and driven by pure rage. 

Antonio’s arms flailed weakly, his eyes rolling back. The gathered crowd murmured nervously, shifting and stepping backward, unsure whether to intervene or flee. 

“Dominic!” I cried, my voice breaking with desperation. “Stop it–just stop!” 

But Dominic didn’t move. Didn’t even blink. 

“Dominic, let him go.” Nico’s voice cut through the chaos suddenly. He moved forward, cautious yet commanding. “You’ve made your point. He won’t touch her again.” 

Dominic’s head turned slowly toward Nico, eyes cold as ice. “Stay out of this, Nico.” 

“He’s had enough,” Nico pressed firmly, stepping closer, his voice steady and calm. “You’re going to kill him in front of witnesses. Think clearly-” 

“I know exactly what I’m doing,” Dominic snarled. His fingers tightened, and Antonio let out a final choked gasp. 

“Dominic!” I screamed, tears stinging my eyes. “Please don’t do this. Please.” 

Finally, something snapped in Dominic’s gaze. He hesitated a fraction of a second before releasing Antonio abruptly, letting him crumple to the floor. Antonio collapsed, gasping harshly, clutching desperately at his throat. 

The crowd around us remained silent, frozen in stunned disbelief. 

Dominic didn’t look at me. Instead, he turned slowly, gaze sweeping coldly across the room. His breathing was controlled now, measured, the savage rage receding into icy calm. The silence deepened, no one daring to speak, no one daring even 

to move. 

Dominic knelt slowly beside Antonio, grabbing his bloodied collar, and pulled his broken face upward roughly. 

“If you ever so much as breathe near her again,” Dominic said softly, voice deadly and low, “I’ll bury you in pieces.” 

Antonio stared at him, eyes wide with fear, and nodded weakly, unable to speak. Dominic released him, letting him collapse again, then straightened slowly, turning to face me. 

I stepped back instinctively, heart hammering violently in my chest. The rage in Dominic’s eyes was gone, replaced by something colder, darker, an intensity that frightened me even more. 

He took a slow step forward, then another, closing the distance until he stood directly in front of me. The entire ballroom watched silently, but Dominic paid them no mind. His attention was solely, completely focused on me. 

He leaned in, his voice lowered to a dangerous whisper, breath warm against my ear. “You wanted my attention? Now you‘ 

ve got it.” 

Before I could speak, before I could even breathe, he grabbed my wrist–not hard enough to hurt, but with the kind of tension that warned me not to resist. 

“Let go of me,” I hissed under my breath. 

He didn’t. His grip tightened just slightly as he began walking, pulling me along with him through the stunned crowd. No one dared say a word. No one dared look for too long. 

I stumbled once trying to match his pace, the heels Emilia had picked out now aching against my feet. I didn’t say anything. Neither did he. Not until we reached the far end of the corridor and he threw open the door to his private quarters. 

The second the door slammed shut behind us, I yanked my wrist free. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I snapped, backing away from him. “You could’ve killed him!” 

His coat hit the floor as he turned toward me, chest rising and falling with unspent rage. “He touched you.” 

“You encouraged it,” I fired back. “I saw you with him. Laughing, Flirting.” 

1/2 

Chapter 103 

“It was a test,” I said quickly. “I needed to know what you’d do.” 

“A test,” he repeated, voice low, incredulous. “You risked everything–for a test?” 

I swallowed hard, throat suddenly dry. “I don’t trust you.” 

His eyes darkened. “And you think that gives you the right to act like you belong to someone else?” 

I lifted my chin. “I don’t belong to anyone.” 

He took one slow step forward. “No. You belong to me.” 

The words sent a shiver down my spine. I hated how easily he said them–like it was a fact, not a threat. 

“I’m not a thing you can claim,” I whispered. 

“You think I care what the world calls it?” he growled. “What we are, Aria, isn’t clean. It isn’t pretty. I’ve never pretended it was.” 

“But you lied,” I said, voice trembling. “About my parents. About what I am to you.” 

He flinched–just slightly. Then he looked away, running a hand down his jaw. 

“I never planned to want you,” he muttered. “I told myself it was just a transaction. Debt. Leverage.” 

His eyes returned to mine, colder now. “But it isn’t.” 

“Then why do I feel like a prisoner in this house?” 

“Because I’m a prison, Aria,” he said simply. “I warned you from the beginning.” 

The silence that followed was deafening. Something in my chest ached–something fragile that felt like it would splinter if he kept talking. 

But then he stepped forward again, closing the space between us. His voice dropped, low and quiet. 

“Do you have any idea what it does to me?” he whispered. “Watching you with someone else. Seeing you laugh like that. Seeing his hands on you.” 

I swallowed. “You don’t own my laughter.” 

“No,” he murmured. “But I want to.” 

He touched my jaw then, fingers gentle despite the anger still radiating off him in waves. I should’ve pulled away. 

I didn’t. 

“I’ve killed men for less,” he said, thumb brushing my cheek. “And I’d do it again if it meant keeping you safe.” 

“You’re obsessed.” 

“I’m in love,” he said, the words rough and unexpected. “And I don’t know how to do it right. I never learned.” 

My breath hitched. 

His lips hovered over mine, close enough to taste. “But if I’m going to burn for you, Aria…” 

He closed the space completely, pressing his mouth to mine, angry, desperate, and so painfully tender I forgot how to fight. 

“…then I’ll burn.” 

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