Claimed By the billionaire

chapter 5

"Haven't heard a peep from her," Jace said, swirling the ice in his glass. "Honestly, Dominic, after what went down today, I wouldn't expect her to call."

Carter waved a dismissive hand, letting out a loud laugh. "Oh, come on, don't sweat it. Rachel is just throwing a tantrum. She’s probably sitting in her apartment waiting for you to call so she can accept your apology. Give it a day or two, she'll come crawling back like she always does."

Jace shot Carter an annoyed look before turning back to Dominic. "Don't listen to him. Women aren't that simple, especially when their pride is on the line. That lavish wedding you held for Natalie was entirely public. Every tabloid in the city is covering it. You practically handed Rachel a public execution, Dominic. She has to be deeply embarrassed."

Dominic’s posture stiffened against the leather sofa, his jaw tightening as Jace’s words hit a raw nerve. He hated to admit it, but Jace was right. The scale of the wedding *had* been a bit much. But what else was he supposed to do? He was only fulfilling Natalie’s final dying wish.

Yet, as he sat in the dim light of the VIP lounge, other memories began to forcefully claw their way to the surface. He recalled his last birthday.

Rachel had spent weeks preparing, calling him repeatedly to remind him to come home early because she had a special surprise waiting for him. But that exact evening, Natalie had suffered a severe panic attack and was rushed to the hospital.

Dominic had abandoned Rachel without a second thought. That was just one of many times he had publicly sidelined her, leaving her to face the whispers and mocking pity of their social circle alone.

An uncomfortable, heavy sensation settled in his stomach. Annoyed by his own thoughts, Dominic abruptly stood up, grabbed his jacket, and walked out of the bar without saying goodbye.

As he sank into the back seat of his luxury sedan, the silence of the car only amplified his unease. He needed to fix this. Rachel was his fiancée, and once Natalie’s health situation settled, the status quo needed to return.

Placing a call to his head assistant, Dominic barked out orders. "Book the city's top wedding dress designer for tomorrow morning. Then, go to the most exclusive jewelry boutique downtown and buy out their entire latest collection. Have everything delivered to Rachel’s apartment."

He hung up, exhaling a slow breath. A grand gesture like this would surely soothe her temper. It always did.

When Dominic finally arrived at his penthouse, a sharp, throbbing headache was pulsing behind his eyes. He tossed his coat onto the sofa and collapsed into an armchair, rubbing his temples in frustration.

A moment later, the head maid quietly entered the room, setting a steaming bowl of chicken soup on the side table.

Dominic glanced at it, his brow furrowing. "What is this? I didn't order anything."

The maid offered a soft, apologetic smile. "Sir, Miss Rachel gave us strict instructions before... well, she told us that whenever you come home with a bad headache from work, we must always prepare this specific herbal chicken soup for you immediately."

The maid bowed and quietly exited the room.

Dominic stared at the steaming bowl, a sudden wave of surprise washing over him. No matter how harshly he treated her, or how much he pushed her aside for Natalie, Rachel had always quietly taken care of him behind the scenes. Her entire world had revolved around his comfort.

He picked up the spoon and took a sip. It was warm, but it tasted entirely different. It lacked the rich, comforting depth of the soup Rachel always personally brewed for him whenever he was sick. The stark realization of her absence suddenly felt incredibly loud.

Driven by an impulse he had never felt in five years, Dominic pulled out his phone. During all their past arguments, Rachel was always the one to call, beg, and text until he answered. He had never once been the one to initiate.

He dialed her number.

“The number you have dialed is currently unavailable. Please leave a message after the tone—”

Dominic snapped his phone shut, his face darkening with sudden fury. His guilt vanished, replaced by an intense surge of irritation.

"Playing hard to get now, Rachel?" he muttered through clenched teeth.

Snapping his phone open again, he dialed his assistant back, his voice dripping with venom. "Cancel the dress designer. Cancel the jewelry. Cancel all of it."

If she wanted to play games, he would gladly starve her of his attention until she broke.

Meanwhile, across the city, the morning sun was just beginning to pierce through the heavy drapes of the master suite.

The sound of a door opening drew Rachel out of her restless sleep. She blinked against the light, and the very first thing her eyes locked onto was Athan Gray walking out of the attached bathroom.

He was completely bare from the waist up, a low-slung white towel wrapped loosely around his hips. He held a smaller towel in his hands, casually drying his damp, dark hair. The morning light caught the flawless, chiseled planes of his chest and the powerful alignment of his abdominal muscles.

He looked less like a corporate businessman and more like a dangerous, beautifully sculpted predator.

Rachel’s breath hitched, a furious blush instantly staining her cheeks. She quickly pulled the duvet up to her chin. "Why... why are you taking a shower so early in the morning?" she asked, her voice squeaking slightly.

Athan stopped drying his hair, tilting his head as his dark eyes locked onto her flustered expression. "Because I can."

Embarrassment flooded Rachel's mind, making her want to melt into the mattress. Just looking at him brought back a vivid, burning rush of the previous night. Athan had been entirely unyielding, stripping away her control until she was completely breathless.

Even now, as she shifted slightly under the sheets, she could still feel the dull, intimate ache radiating through her body. It was a constant, undeniable reminder of what they had done.

Athan tossed the small towel onto a nearby chair, stepping closer to the bed. A dangerous smirk played on his lips. "Why are you looking so flustered, Rachel? You certainly weren't this shy when you were all over me last night."

Rachel quickly averted her gaze, her heart hammering against her ribs. "I wasn't... all over you. That was the drug."

She stared down at the silk sheets, her thoughts turning bitter. To a man like Athan Gray, this was probably just a casual one-night stand. They had crossed a line out of circumstance, and now that the morning had come, it was time to return to reality. They would go back to being complete strangers. That was how these things worked, wasn't it?

As if seamlessly reading the exact thoughts flashing across her face, Athan’s smirk faded into something much more intense.

He leaned down, shadowing her completely. "You slept in my bed, gave yourself to me, and now you're sitting there planning how to pretend we're strangers?"

Before Rachel could reply, a soft, polite knock echoed at the bedroom door.

Athan stood up straight, turning away from the bed as he walked over and opened it. A maid stood in the hallway, holding a garment bag and a sleek designer box. "Sir, the wardrobe you ordered for Miss Rachel has arrived."

"Leave it," Athan said, taking the items and closing the door.

He walked back to the bed and tossed the heavy designer boxes onto the mattress beside her. "Your clothes from yesterday were completely ruined. Wear these."

Rachel looked at the luxury branding on the boxes, then looked up at him as he began to casually pull on a crisp black button-down shirt, hiding his sculpted chest from view.

Trying to anchor her swirling emotions into something logical, Rachel swallowed hard and cleared her throat. "Thank you. But... I think we're even now."

Athan stopped buttoning his shirt, his fingers pausing over the fabric as he turned his sharp, icy gaze back to her. "Even?"

"Yes," Rachel said, lifting her chin to muster whatever dignity she had left. "I slept with you, and you slept with me. It was mutual. So, we're even."

The room fell completely silent.

Athan slowly finished buttoning his shirt, leaving the top two buttons open. He walked over to the side of the bed with slow, deliberate steps that made Rachel’s breath catch. Leaning down, he reached out and firmly gripped her chin, forcing her to look directly into the dark, bottomless depths of his eyes.

"Even?" he repeated, his voice dropping to a low, thrilling rumble that vibrated right through her.

He stared at her parted lips for a long, agonizing second before slowly releasing his grip. He straightened up, adjusting his cuffs with an air of absolute authority.

"Get dressed," Athan commanded smoothly, turning toward the door. "And come down for breakfast."

Only when the heavy oak door clicked shut behind him did Rachel finally let out the breath she had been holding. She collapsed back against the pillows, her heart racing as she stared at the designer boxes, realizing that escaping Athan Gray's orbit was going to be far more complicated than she thought.