Dominic's POV
287 Words
She walked away like her legs still remembered him.
Dominic watched every step.
Her uniform clung to her hips, that stupid little name tag glinting under the diner lights like it belonged to him now.
It did.
She did.
He took another sip of coffee he didn’t even want, just to keep himself grounded. Just to keep from dragging her back into the hallway and finishing what he started.
But not here.
Not when she still thought she had a choice.
The moment her eyes met his again, just before she dropped the check, he saw it.
That flicker of something new.
Fear?
No. Surrender.
He slid the black card and the napkin across the table without blinking. She stared down at it, lips parting.
Her fingers brushed his as she took it.
He didn’t speak. Didn’t need to.
Words were for people who begged.
He promised.
And he always kept his promises.
As she walked away, he leaned back in the booth, one arm slung casually over the backrest. But inside, he was boiling.
She had no idea what she'd awakened.
What kind of man he was.
He’d tasted her. Touched her. Marked her.
And now she thought she could go back to her life? Serve coffee and smile at strangers?
Not a f*****g chance.
He watched her disappear through the kitchen doors.
Then he pulled out his phone.
“Find out who her landlord is,” he said coldly. “I want a full report by tonight.”
He hung up.
If Elena thought last night was a mistake… she was about to find out exactly what it meant to be wanted by a Moretti.
And Dominic?
He never let go of what he claimed.
- Writer
