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1151 Words
Dominic sat in his chair, fingers drumming impatiently on the armrest as he stared at the ceiling. The house was eerily quiet—just the sound of Leo’s footsteps echoing down the hallway as he worked. He couldn’t stop thinking about the girl. Her broken body, her pale skin, the way she looked at him like he was a stranger. She had been through hell, but the real question was: what had caused it?
The door to his office creaked open, and Leo stepped inside, a grim look on his face.
“Anything?” Dominic asked, not looking at him.
“No. I’ve got nothing yet,” Leo said, his voice quiet. “I talked to the neighbors, no one’s seen her before. Not at school, not around the area. No one knows her.”
Dominic’s jaw clenched, and he stood, pacing in frustration. He could feel his anger bubbling beneath the surface, but there was something else too—a strange sense of helplessness. Why did this girl matter to him? Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her?
“Maybe it’s better that way,” Leo continued. “She might be a stray, you know. Someone left her in the wind.”
Dominic shot him a glance. “You think I don’t know that, Leo?” His voice was tight. “I’m trying to figure out what happened to her, not get distracted by fairy tales.”
Leo raised an eyebrow but wisely kept his mouth shut.
Dominic’s thoughts drifted back to Olivia—the fragile girl with the bruised face, the silent figure who couldn’t speak. He hadn’t heard a word from her since he brought her here. Not a sound. Just a look.
He had tried to speak to her once, gently, but she wouldn’t respond. She wouldn’t even meet his eyes. It was as if he had no right to be in her world.
But then again, he didn’t know anything about her world. All he knew was the anger that burned inside him when he saw the marks on her body. It wasn’t like him to care about someone’s pain—especially not a girl who clearly wasn’t his type. But something about her just felt… wrong. Like she didn’t belong in that world, in that life.
Suddenly, he realized that he hadn’t been to her room in hours. Without saying a word to Leo, he turned and walked out of the office, heading toward the guest room.
The girl layed in the bed, her eyes shut, face pale and swollen from the bruises. The blanket was pulled up to her chin, and her breathing was shallow. She looked so small, so frail. Dominic stood in the doorway, just watching her for a moment.
He knew she was scared. That was obvious. And that scared him too—more than he was willing to admit. He had never been good at dealing with fear, especially other people’s. But here she was, like a fragile bird with a broken wing. She didn’t belong here. She didn’t belong anywhere like this.
He stepped into the room slowly, careful not to make any noise that might startle her. Her eyes flickered open at the sound of his footsteps.
Dominic froze, feeling a strange weight in the air between them. Her eyes didn’t look at him with the usual fear he expected from most people. Instead, they seemed distant, like she had already given up on anyone ever saving her.
"Kitten," Dominic whispered, though he wasn’t sure why he even said her name. He didn’t know if she even heard him. But she blinked, her eyes barely registering his presence.
Her hand moved, slowly, as if she had to fight with her own body just to move. She reached for the pen and paper on the nightstand, and Dominic watched her curiously, wondering what she could possibly write.
She scribbled something down quickly, her handwriting sharp, as if she was writing in desperation. She passed the note to him, and he unfolded it.
“I don’t belong here.”
The words stung Dominic like a slap across the face. She didn’t belong here? How could she think that?
“I know,” he muttered, surprising himself with his own words. “You don’t.”
He couldn’t tell if she understood him, but her eyes flickered at the sound of his voice. It was the first time she had reacted to him like that.
Her hand moved again, writing quickly.
“Who are you?” the note read.
Dominic’s chest tightened. He had never been good at introductions. But he couldn’t avoid this. Not anymore.
“I’m Dominic Orvez,” he replied softly. “And I’m the one who’s going to figure out who did this to you.”
She stared at him for a long time, her brow furrowing. Finally, she wrote again.
“Why do you care?”
Dominic didn’t know how to answer that. He had no explanation. He could lie, but lying wasn’t going to make anything better.
“I don’t know,” he said finally. “I just do.”
Her expression softened, just a little. But he could still see the walls she had built up around herself. The fortress she had created to keep people out. She wasn’t ready to trust him.
And he didn’t blame her.
Later that day, Leo returned to the house with a quiet look of resolve. “I’ve got something,” he said, pulling Dominic aside.
“About her?”
Leo nodded. “I was able to get a lead. I think I know where she came from. Her father’s name is Marcus Smith. He’s the chief of police in Sin Hills.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed. “Marcus Smith?” He knew the name all too well. The corrupt, manipulative bastard who had made his own daughter a prisoner. It was the perfect cover for someone like him.
Dominic’s jaw clenched. “Find him. I want him.”
As the night wore on, Dominic couldn’t help but feel a strange pull toward Olivia. It wasn’t just the need to protect her from the scum who had done this. It was something deeper, something he couldn’t put his finger on.
He stepped into her room again, this time sitting down beside her.
Her eyes were closed, but her fingers twitched slightly, like she was fighting off a dream.
Dominic reached out, placing a hand gently on hers.
“I’ll make sure he never hurts you again,” he whispered, even though he wasn’t sure how he was going to do that. But something in him had changed. Olivia had sparked something in him, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
And maybe, just maybe, he could learn how to be the protector she needed.
Even if it meant softening the walls he had built around his own heart.
- Writer
