Page 19 of Defying Love

They crashed into mine, and my hand went straight into his hair. His arms enveloped me and my assumptions were right, leaving me breathless. His tongue asked for permission, and I opened my mouth, letting him explore further. Fuck, this man was making it hard to say no.

He pulled back. “Please don’t make that the last time we get to do that.”

I gathered my composure before I replied. "I can't marry a man I don't know, Dominic. Not even to save my life. There has to be another way."

"I truly wish there was. My intention was to get to know you, let you see the real me, and then get to this stage, but… my jealousy got out of hand and here we are."

Dominic stepped closer, the air around him charged. His dark eyes never left mine, a silent vow that he would not waver from his purpose.

"I know your fears, and I don't dismiss them lightly." He paused for a brief moment, as if weighing each syllable. "But understand this—your hesitation won't shield you from what's coming."

The tendrils of darkness that had followed me since I set foot in his club now seemed to tighten their grip. Dominic's gaze held mine, unblinking, a silent challenge against the encroaching night.

"Death isn't just a possibility; it's a certainty."

The idea of marriage—a binding tie to a man whose life was a mystery entangled with danger—terrified me. Yet the cold realization that my options were narrowing into a single path silenced the tremors of doubt. Death or Dominic—those were the choices laid bare before me.

I drew in a shaky breath, the inevitability of my decision anchoring me to the spot. "I… I understand. If this is the only way to stay alive, then yes, I'll marry you."

Dominic's shoulders, once rigid with tension, visibly relaxed. "You've made the right choice."

He stepped forward, closing the distance with purpose. The shadows played across his chiseled features, casting him in an enigmatic light that both concealed and revealed the complexities of the man before me. In the darkness, his eyes found mine.

He reached out, and his hand, warm and steady, enveloped mine. The contrast of his calloused skin against my own sent an involuntary shiver up my spine. There was strength in his grasp, a silent promise that spoke louder than any vow uttered at an altar.

"Thank you," he murmured, the two words laden with an intensity that seemed to echo through the hollows of my heart.

The faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, a rare softening of the stern lines that usually defined his expression. In that brief, unguarded moment, I glimpsed the man beneath the mantle of power and responsibility—the protector who had surfaced from within the future ruthless leader.

"Whatever comes," Dominic continued, his thumb gently tracing circles over the back of my hand, "I will keep you safe. This I swear on my life."

“There is one condition, though.”

His gaze returned to mine, eyebrow arched. “What is that?”

"Working at the club," I began. "I can't give that up. Even if I marry you."

My debt was astounding and working at the club was the only way for me to remedy that. Married or not, it had to be paid.

Dominic's expression remained unreadable, dark eyes fixed on me with an intensity that could sway the most hardened criminal. But I stood my ground, the soft waves of my blond hair shimmering slightly as I straightened my posture. "Is that so?" he asked, his tone betraying neither agreement nor opposition, yet it carried the weight of unspoken power.

"It is," I replied, my eyes locking with his. "I won't be just another trophy wife."

For a moment, there was no sound but the ticking of the antique clock on the wall, each second stretching taut between us. Then something flickered in Dominic’s gaze. It was not warmth—no, not from a man carved from stone—but perhaps a glint of respect.

"Trophy wife," he echoed thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair. The leather creaked under his broad shoulders, the shadowed contours of his face giving nothing away.

"Independence," I corrected quietly.

"Most women would leap at the chance for a life of luxury, without the need for… club work." His words hung in the air, tinged with the suggestion that I should conform to the norm, yet they also bore the hint of a challenge.

"Maybe so, but I'm not most women, Dominic."

There was a slow nod from him, almost imperceptible, as if conceding to a worthy opponent in a game of chess. In that moment, I had ventured beyond the realm of simple negotiation.

"Indeed.”

A silence descended upon the room, thick and heavy as velvet drapes. I watched as Dominic's gaze—sharp as a blade—sliced through his contemplation, coming to rest upon me with a new measure of calculation.

---