His New Mission
1882 Words
It came just after 7 p.m.
A knock. Sharp. Measured. Not like a neighbor. Not like Melissa.
She looked through the peephole: a delivery guy. Cap low. Hoodie. Hands tucked in his pockets.
He held out a plain envelope. “For Zara Monroe.”
She hesitated. “From who?”
“Didn’t say. Just a delivery.”
She cracked the door. Signed. Closed it.
She stood in her kitchen with the envelope in her hands for a full minute before opening it.
Inside, one piece of cardstock.
Zara,
If you’re reading this, I found you.
Please don’t panic. I won’t force anything.
But I would like to talk. No pressure.
You can reach me at this number.
— D
Her hands started shaking. The note slipped to the counter.
He found her.
Dominic Kane had found her.
And he wasn’t sending lawyers or threats.
He was letting her choose.
That made her feel more trapped than anything.
She didn’t sleep that night.
The letter sat on her nightstand, haunting her like a loaded gun.
She stared at the ceiling for hours, trying to calculate what to do next. Every option was a maze with no exit.
Call him? What would she even say? Hi, remember me? I’m pregnant with your child and you’re engaged and rich and perfect and this was never supposed to happen.
Ignore him? He might show up in person next time.
Run? She couldn’t. She didn’t have the money or the energy or the clarity to disappear—not with a baby growing inside her.
Zara curled tighter into her blanket.
She was scared.
But it wasn’t just about Dominic anymore.
It was about the baby.
The life inside her didn’t ask for drama. Didn’t ask for secrets or cold penthouses or cufflinks with initials.
It deserved better.
She had no idea what better looked like anymore.
DOMINIC POV
Dominic Kane stood in the shadows across the street from her building, hidden behind the tinted glass of a black SUV.
He hadn’t told security he was coming.
He just needed to see the place. Needed to know she was real. That the woman who had haunted his nights for a week actually had an address, a routine, a life outside of that hotel bed and one unforgettable night.
Her window was lit.
She was home.
He didn’t try to go up. Didn’t call. He didn’t want to scare her, and God help him, he didn’t want to control the outcome.
He just wanted her to know.
That he hadn’t forgotten.
That he wasn’t disappearing.
That he saw her now—even if it was too late.
He took a breath and whispered to himself:
“I’m not the man she needs. But I’m the one she’s got.”
His phone buzzed.
GRACE (Vanessa’s sister).
He let it ring.
Tonight was about Zara.
Zara POV
Zara sat on the edge of her bed, letter in one hand, phone in the other.
The number was typed in, but her thumb hovered over the call button like it might burn her.
She couldn’t do it.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
She closed her eyes and leaned back.
Then her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
Her breath caught.
She didn’t answer—but she read the text:
I meant what I said. No pressure. But I’m not leaving this undone. — D
She stared at her phone for what felt like an hour.
His number sat there, unchanged. Waiting.
She had paced her apartment so many times she’d worn a track in the hardwood. Every time she almost pressed “Call,” she’d stop, walk away, make tea, sit down, stand up again.
But she couldn’t stop thinking about what he wrote:
“I meant what I said. No pressure. But I’m not leaving this undone.”
No pressure.
And yet she couldn’t breathe.
She closed her eyes. Took a shaky breath. And hit Call.
The line rang once.
Twice.
Three times.
Her heart was a war drum.
Then—click.
“Zara.”
His voice.
Low. Warm. Calm.
She felt her knees weaken and sat down, hard, on the edge of her bed. She hadn’t expected to hear her name like that. Not with certainty. Not with… care.
She tried to speak. Nothing came out.
“Zara,” Dominic said again, softer this time. “You don’t have to say anything. I’m just glad you called.”
“I almost didn’t.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“I know.”
She exhaled shakily. “I didn’t know what to say. I still don’t.”
“Then let me go first.”
Silence.
“I shouldn’t have left that morning,” he said. “You deserved more than that.”
She blinked hard. “I wasn’t expecting anything.”
“I know. That’s what made it worse.”
His voice had that same weight it did the night they met. Measured. Controlled. But not cold. Never cold.
He sighed. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”
Zara closed her eyes. “You’re engaged.”
“I know.”
She let that sit.
“Does she know?” Zara asked.
“No,” he said. “We haven’t spoken in a month.”
Zara was quiet. She wanted to ask why. She didn’t.
Dominic continued, slower now. “You don’t owe me anything. I just… needed you to know that I didn’t forget. That I never planned to.”
Zara swallowed. Her hands were shaking.
“There’s something I have to tell you,” she said.
He didn’t respond immediately. “Okay.”
She hesitated.
She could feel the words building in her throat—but something stopped them. A fear so big, it made her feel like a child.
“I’m not ready to say it yet,” she admitted. “But I will. Soon.”
A pause.
“Then I’ll wait.”
Zara bit her lip. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
And just like that, she believed him.
Not because of his voice.
Not because of his words.
But because he wasn’t rushing her. Not this time.
Not anymore.
They talked for thirty minutes.
About nothing. About everything.
He asked how she liked her job. She lied and said she was still working. He asked if she was sleeping okay. She lied again. He didn’t call her out on it.
She asked if he still had the other cufflink.
He laughed softly. “Yeah. I thought it was just lost.”
“I didn’t steal it,” she said, half-teasing.
“I never said you did.”
“But you assumed.”
“No,” Dominic said. “I hoped.”
Zara’s chest tightened.
By the time the call ended, something had shifted between them.
Not resolved.
But opened.
And as she lay in bed that night, for the first time in days, she slept.
Not because the fear was gone.
But because she wasn’t carrying it alone anymore.
ZARA POV
She didn’t want coffee. She didn’t want small talk.
She wanted out of this moment.
But here she was—stepping into a downtown restaurant with glass walls and private booths, walking straight toward the man who had left her bedroom before sunrise and never looked back… until now.
Dominic Kane looked up when she entered.
He was already standing. Always standing. Always in control.
Black shirt. No tie. Sleeves rolled. Like this was just another power lunch.
She slid into the seat across from him.
He didn’t speak. Just studied her.
Zara cut to it.
“I’m pregnant.”
No build-up. No warning. No pleasantries.
Just the nuclear option.
DOMINIC POV
He’d prepared himself for a hundred possible things.
That wasn’t one of them.
His breath didn’t catch—but his heart did.
He looked at her. Pale. Steady. Defiant.
His voice came out low. “How far?”
“Six weeks. Maybe more. I don’t know yet.”
He leaned back in the booth. “And it’s mine.”
“You think I’m lying?”
“I think it’s mine,” he said. “That’s not the issue.”
She blinked.
He’d said it with no hesitation.
Dominic rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Do you want to keep it?”
“I’m going to,” she said.
Not a question. A declaration.
And God help him—he respected the hell out of that.
ZARA POV
He was too calm.
Too still.
She hated it.
“You’re engaged.”
He nodded. “Not anymore.”
She froze. “Excuse me?”
He looked her dead in the eye. “I called it off two nights ago.”
“Why?”
“Because I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he said simply. “And she knew.”
Zara didn’t breathe.
“I didn’t do this to save anything,” Dominic continued. “But if you’re carrying my child, I won’t stand on the sidelines like a donor. You don’t have to want me, but you don’t get to erase me.”
Her lips parted. “I wasn’t planning to.”
“No?” he said. “Then why did you run?”
Zara leaned across the table. “Because I’m twenty-three and broke and terrified, and you’re forty-two and rich and engaged to a woman with a better wardrobe than God.”
Dominic’s mouth twitched. Not quite a smile. But something.
“I don’t care about that,” he said.
“You don’t care about anything,” she snapped. “You walked out that morning without even looking back.”
“I did,” he said, eyes hard. “Because if I stayed, I would’ve wanted more. And I don’t take more from people who don’t offer it.”
Silence.
Hot. Charged.
Zara’s throat tightened.
Then, finally: “I don’t know what to do with you.”
“Let me show you.”
Dominic’s phone buzzed on the table. Again.
Same name.
Grace.
Zara looked at it. “A little busy, Kane.”
He silenced it. Didn’t answer.
It rang again.
And this time, something in his gut twisted.
He picked up.
“Grace.”
Her voice hit him cold. “Dominic. Vanessa’s in the hospital.”
Everything in the room slowed.
“What happened?”
“She collapsed during a press dinner. Internal bleeding. They think it was from an early pregnancy. One she didn’t tell you about.”
His body turned to stone.
“Dominic—” Grace’s voice cracked. “She lost the baby.”
ZARA POV
She didn’t hear everything. Just one sentence.
“She lost the baby.”
Dominic’s entire expression changed. Not sadness. Not grief.
Guilt.
Zara sat back, arms folded.
“Is there anything else I should know?” she asked when he hung up.
He stared at her, voice quieter now. “She didn’t tell me she was pregnant. Ever.”
“And now she’s not.”
“I didn’t love her.”
Zara didn’t blink. “But she was carrying your child.”
Dominic didn’t answer.
Zara stood up. “I need to think.”
“Zara—”
“I’ll call you when I know whether or not I’m doing this with you.”
And she walked out.
- Writer
