My ribs felt hollow when morning light sliced through the silk drapes of our suite at Northridge Manor.
I sat cross-legged on the oversized duvet, staring at the brushed gold cuff on my wrist. Last night in the dark hallway, Dominic’s voice had sliced straight through my ribs: If Sienna wants to leave me when the year is over, I won’t stop her—even if it destroys me.
For my whole life, love looked like a leash or a ledger. People stayed because you paid the rent, because you fit the role, or because they trapped you with guilt. Dominic Kane—the billionaire who bought out companies like spare change—was ready to hand me an open door and bleed in silence just so I never felt cornered.
It wasn't control. It was terrifying, reckless freedom.
I kept my distance through breakfast, sliding in
