The jealous flame
1052 Words
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Chapter 3: The Jealous Flame
Dominic Hawthorne didn’t usually wake up before noon.
But today, he was up by 8 AM. Showered. Dressed. Hair tousled to just the right level of messy. Black hoodie, dark jeans, sunglasses. No chauffeur, no flashy car. Just him and the city bus—something he hadn’t set foot in since he was ten.
But all of that was worth it.
Because he was going to surprise her.
Molly Gardener.
The maid who slapped him and somehow still lived rent-free in his head.
She thought she could ignore him. Resist him. Hide behind dusty uniforms and nightly chores like he wouldn’t notice the way her eyes flicked toward him every time he walked into a room.
She thought she was safe outside the estate.
That was cute.
Dominic leaned against the rusting fence outside Ashford Community College and checked the time. Almost noon. Her classes should be ending soon. He waited, arms crossed, amused at how utterly ordinary the students looked.
And then he saw her.
Molly, wearing a pale blue sweater and fitted jeans that hugged her curves in all the right ways. Her hair was tied in a loose bun, curls bouncing with every step. She was laughing.
And not alone.
There was a guy beside her. Tall, nerdy cute, with messy brown hair and glasses. He was carrying her books.
Dominic’s jaw clenched as he watched her smile—that smile. Soft. Unfiltered. Beautiful.
The guy said something that made her laugh again, and then, like a knife to Dominic’s pride, she hugged him.
She hugged him.
Dominic’s hands curled into fists inside his hoodie pockets. His heart beat just a little faster, his jaw tightening by the second.
Who the hell was this i***t?
He didn’t look like much. Probably couldn’t even bench-press a backpack. But there he was—making Molly laugh, holding her books like some gallant college puppy, and getting a hug like it meant something.
Dominic’s surprise visit was officially ruined.
He pulled his hood lower over his eyes and turned, walking away before she could see him. His chest burned, but he told himself it wasn’t jealousy.
It was… irritation.
Annoyance.
Possibly indigestion.
Definitely not the fact that Molly had smiled wider in thirty seconds with that guy than she ever had with him.
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Molly had no idea she’d been watched.
After class, she headed back to the estate, oblivious to the storm brewing in the West Wing.
She changed into her uniform, pinned her hair back, and headed downstairs to polish the ballroom floors. The day had been good. Jay was funny and sweet, and she actually felt like a normal girl for a few hours.
But that calm didn’t last long.
While she was on her knees scrubbing near the grand piano, she heard the heavy creak of the door behind her.
Before she could turn, a voice slid into the room like smoke.
“Did you have fun at college today, maid?”
Molly jumped slightly, looking up to see Dominic leaning against the archway. He was back in black, arms folded, eyes unreadable behind that trademark smirk.
She stood slowly. “You scared me.”
“Did I?” He tilted his head. “How careless of me.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What do you want?”
“Oh, nothing.” He strolled in, circling her slowly like a shark. “Just wondering how your classes are going. English major, right?”
Her eyes widened. “How do you know that?”
“I know a lot of things. Like the name of the boy who gave you that hug today.” He paused. “Jay, isn’t it?”
Her heart skipped. “Were you… following me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I was simply in the neighborhood.”
“Right.” She rolled her eyes. “Because Dominic Hawthorne rides the city bus.”
He grinned. “You picture me on a bus? I’m flattered.”
Molly turned away, picking up the cleaning rag. “Well, if you’re done spying and pretending not to care, I have work to finish.”
“Jealousy looks good on you, Molly,” he murmured.
She whipped around. “Excuse me?”
“I saw the way you hugged him. The way you laughed like… like you liked him.”
Her brows rose. “So what if I do?”
His eyes flared. “You don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re mine.”
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Silence fell between them.
Molly’s lips parted in disbelief. “Yours?”
He took a step closer. “You don’t get it yet, do you?”
She stepped back. “I’m not a possession, Dominic.”
“No,” he said, voice low, “but you are something I want.”
She swallowed hard. “You’re out of your mind.”
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Maybe.”
Molly turned back to her cleaning, refusing to let him see the way her hands shook. “I can hug whoever I want. Talk to whoever I want. You don’t own me just because you flirt and smirk and throw tantrums.”
“I don’t throw tantrums,” he said coolly. “I plot. There’s a difference.”
Her eyes darted to him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He stepped back, suddenly all easy charm again. “Nothing. Just saying… maybe your little college world isn’t as safe as you think.”
She scowled. “Are you threatening me?”
“No,” he said with a wink. “Just letting you know I play the long game.”
Then, as casually as if he were discussing the weather, he added: “I’ll see you at Ashford soon.”
Her heart skipped. “What?”
“Oh yes. I’ve just enrolled.” He grinned wider. “Wouldn’t want to miss another one of your adorable hugs.”
And just like that, he sauntered out.
Molly stood there, rag in hand, torn between screaming and laughing.
He was coming to her college.
Dominic Hawthorne.
Her nightmare in designer clothes.
And she had a feeling his next move was going to be anything but subtle.
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- Writer
