Page 99 of The Dominator

And that was worse because that meant that on top of everything else, every frightened and helpless emotion he’d just put me through, that he really was an abusive asshole.

The car stopped at a red light and then I did what was probably the stupidest thing I’ve done since meeting him. I thrust the door open and I got out of the limo and stormed off between other waiting cars and then down the street in the opposite direction.

An instant after I did, I caught the view of someone running, from the corner of my eye. It was Nino. He’d gotten out of a small smart car behind our limo and he was on his phone, talking while he was following me. Figured. The whole thing was staged; I was probably never alone at all.

I shot Nino a dirty look over my shoulder and I kept right on walking. My pocket dinged. I kept walking, but faster, more determined. Then I was through a revolving door, Nino not ten feet behind me, and inside of a casino, I didn’t know which one, and I was storming down the trippy-looking butt-ugly carpet and because I’d ignored it the first time, my pocket dinged again. I ignored it again. Suddenly, I felt fingers grip my arm at my bicep. My heart hit the bottom of my stomach.

“Read your text,” Nino told me. He was not smiling.

I shrugged him off and thrust my hand in my pocket and pulled the phone out to read the text from Tommy.

Fine, cool off. Nino will keep you safe. Be back at the suite in half an hour. I’ll be waiting.

I responded to his text without hesitating.

FUCK YOU!

The read receipt popped instantly, and I turned the phone off and then thrust the phone back in my pocket. My heart sank, but that sensation was below the surface of my anger, which was bigger than my fear or my common sense right now, so I resumed walking and Nino followed right along behind me. After a few minutes, I was beyond annoyed with him being right behind me. I needed to lose him. I just needed five damn minutes by myself, totally by myself.

I spotted a blonde woman in a skimpy outfit carrying a tray of drinks. I saw a drunk-looking middle-aged Asian guy approaching her, so I suddenly took off running past him, sort of bumped him, and he knocked her drinks all over the place. This happened like it was carefully rehearsed choreography, right in front of Nino and I was off…half walking and half running, hoping casino security wouldn’t think I was suspicious and try to stop me.

I zig- zagged through rows of slot machines and then card tables and roulette wheels. I finally got the nerve to glance back and there was no sign of him.

I found my way out into the lobby of that hotel and left. I went to a café a few doors down and sat and drank an iced cappuccino and took my time about it. The longer I sat there, the angrier I got. How dare he! What the heck was his problem?

My angry rage fog cleared and made me ask myself a better question: what the heck was my problem? My heart sank as gravity sank in. Provoking him like that? I had no idea how pissed he’d be. But I was pretty pissed, too, and the way I was feeling I’d have no problem articulating that to him.

After over an hour in the café I hailed a cab out front. I asked the driver to take me to the hotel. I had no death wish desires so, no, I wasn’t running away right now. I guess I was just teaching him a lesson. How dare he do that to me and then have the audacity to ‘give’ me half an hour to cool down!

I paid the cabbie and strolled up to the concierge’s desk and told him I was with Tommy Ferrano, gave the suite number, and said that I’d forgotten my room key.

He punched some keys into his computer and told me he remembered me from the previous day and that he’d escort me up in a moment and asked me to just have a seat.

I had to stand my ground. If we were going to have a real relationship, one that was a two-way street, I had to have a voice he paid attention to. If he really wanted me for me, he’d understand that he couldn’t keep doing things like this. And he’d have to learn to rein in his temper, too, because what’d happened this morning was totally unacceptable.

The concierge came over a moment later and told me he’d escort me to my suite. Once inside, I kicked off my shoes and then I poured a glass of wine from the bottle sitting in the ice bucket in the bedroom from the night before. The ice had melted, but it was still chilly. I sat on the bed and I waited, arms crossed. I was ready for a showdown with my fiancé.

I turned the phone on and saw there were 2 missed calls and two texts.

Tia! Turn around right now and meet Nino at the front desk.

Another one.

Are you seriously stupid enough to do this? I fucking hope not

Nothing since then. It’d been over an hour ago. I answered with a text.

Cool your jets. I’m in our room.

Immediately he read it and those three dots appeared, showing he was typing. I waited.

big fucking trouble baby

I wrote back:

You know what? Bring it on. I’m so fucking pissed at you. This relationship needs to be a 2-way street. You want to test me and play games with me over & over again? Treat me like crap & like a piece of property and then expect me to have zero reaction at you playing mind games? Wrong! If you want me to be the faithful and dutiful fiancée, I SUGGEST you start treating me with respect!!

My phone rang almost immediately after he read the message.

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