“Dominic!” A woman’s voice burst through the speaker, trembling and breathless. “Please help me… I think someone’s following me. I’m so scared!”
Loriana.
His whole body went tense. “Send me your location.”
He hung up and grabbed his jacket. Didn’t even look at me.
“Baby, there’s something urgent at work. Go home first, alright?”
The door slammed behind him.
I didn’t go home.
Something in my chest burned—rage, heartbreak, maybe just that quiet knowing that I’d been a fool for too long. I called a cab and told the driver to follow him.
He stopped in an alley. From the shadows, I saw him. Dominic was standing in front of Loriana like a shield, facing a group of men holding metal rods.
She clung to him, pretending to cry, but I could see it, how she watched him through her tears, how not one of them touched her.
Dominic fought like he wasn’t even human… every punch was wild, desperate, like he’d die before letting anyone near her. I’d never seen him like that. Not once for me.
Then one of the men pulled out a knife. He charged toward her.
“Lory!” Dominic shouted, and without a second thought, he threw himself in front of her.
The knife plunged into his chest.