Dominic still wasn’t telling me.
And that silence terrified me more than any answer could have.
With my thoughts spiraling, I turned back to the kitchen, forcing my hands to keep moving even though I knew I wouldn’t eat a single bite of what I was cooking. The smell of chicken turned my stomach. My appetite had vanished the moment I realized something had been done to me—without my consent, without my understanding.
As I chopped mechanically, Dominic placed a thick stack of papers on the kitchen island.
“I need you to come with me,” he said quietly. “I’m going to change. While I do, I want you to read these. I’ll answer every question you have when I come back down—but please… don’t close your mind.”
I didn’t look at him.
“I’m Dominic,” he added softly. “Your Dom. Bunny, please don’t
