Dominic’s silence was louder than any confession.
Owen watched him. “Tell her.”
Amelia’s throat tightened. “Dominic.”
He finally met her eyes.
And then—finally—he spoke.
“I wasn’t just special ops,” he said quietly. “I was a ghost.”
Owen’s smirk was bitter. “There it is.”
Amelia’s stomach churned. “What does that mean?”
Dominic exhaled, his voice heavy with something she couldn’t quite name. “It means I wasn’t just a soldier. I was off the books. Black ops. The kind of missions that don’t exist on paper.”
Her pulse roared in her ears.
“You killed people,” she whispered.
His expression didn’t change. “Yes.”
She swallowed. “For the government?”
Dominic’s silence stretched too long.
Owen snorted. “Not always.”
Her stomach dropped.
She took a step back, shaking her head. “You—”
