Page 44 of Falling for the Grump Billionaire

I flinch at his words, not because they’re untrue, but because they hit too close to home. I’ve spent years fighting to prove myself, refusing to be anyone’s pawn. And now, here I am, right in the middle of a game I barely understand.

Dominic sighs, running a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in the sharp lines of his face. “Look, I’m not saying you’re incapable, Eva. I’m saying you’re a target. And until we figure out who’s behind this, staying together is the safest option.”

I don’t like it. I don’t like being boxed in, and I certainly don’t like the idea of relying on Dominic Kane. But the truth is, he’s right. And that’s what scares me most.

“Fine,” I say begrudgingly, dropping onto the plush couch. “But don’t think this means you get to boss me around.”

His lips twitch, the closest thing to a smile I’ve seen from him in days. “Noted.”

The hours that follow are a blur of tension and discovery. We sit at opposite ends of the dining table, a mountain of documents, emails, and financial records spread between us. Dominic dives into the technical details with the same intensity he seems to apply to everything, while I sift through the data with a journalist’s eye.

It’s in the email logs that I notice it—a series of messages sent from Conrad’s company account, flagged as routine correspondence. But there’s nothing routine about the recipient: a shadow account tied to Mercer Industries.

“Look at this,” I say, sliding my laptop toward Dominic. “These emails are masked to look like internal updates, but they’re being sent to Mercer.”

Dominic’s jaw tightens as he reads through the logs. “Conrad.”

“And look at the timing,” I add, pointing to the dates. “Every one of these messages coincides with a major setback for Kane competitors. Failed projects, acquisitions that fell through—it’s too calculated to be a coincidence.”

His expression darkens, the weight of betrayal evident in his features. “If Conrad’s been feeding Mercer information, it explains a lot. But it also means he’s been playing the long game.”

“Which begs the question,” I say, leaning back in my chair, “what’s the endgame?”

Dominic doesn’t answer, his focus shifting back to the screen. I watch him, the tension in his shoulders a stark contrast to thecalm confidence he usually exudes. For the first time, I see the cracks in his armor, the pressure threatening to break through.

“Dominic,” I say softly, drawing his attention. “We’ll figure this out.”

His gaze meets mine, and for a moment, I see something vulnerable in his eyes. It’s gone as quickly as it appears, replaced by his usual stoic determination. But it lingers with me, a reminder that even Dominic Kane isn’t invincible.

The night stretches on, the weight of our discoveries hanging heavy in the air. At some point, Dominic disappears into the kitchen, returning with a plate of food he places in front of me without a word.

“I’m not hungry,” I protest, pushing the plate away.

“You haven’t eaten all day,” he counters, his tone firm but not unkind. “You need to keep your strength up.”

It’s a small gesture, but it catches me off guard. For all his gruffness and control, there’s something surprisingly tender about the way he looks after me. I don’t know what to do with it, so I pick up the fork and take a bite, more to appease him than anything else.

Satisfied, he returns to his seat, resuming his search through the financial records. I watch him out of the corner of my eye, noting the way his brows furrow in concentration, the faint lines of exhaustion etched into his face.

“Dominic,” I say after a while, my voice breaking the quiet. “Why do you do it? All of this—Kane Enterprises, the control, the power. What’s it all for?”

He doesn’t look up, but I can tell my question has caught him off guard. “Because I had to,” he says finally. “When you grow up with nothing, you learn quickly that the only person you can rely on is yourself. I built Kane Enterprises because I refused to let anyone have power over me ever again.”

His words hit me harder than I expect, and for a moment, I don’t know how to respond. There’s a rawness to his admission that makes me see him in a new light—not as the untouchable billionaire, but as a man who’s fought tooth and nail for everything he has.

Before I can say anything, Dominic’s phone buzzes, breaking the moment. He answers it immediately, his expression shifting as Adrian’s voice comes through the line.

“What is it?” Dominic asks, his tone sharp.

Adrian’s reply is muffled, but I catch enough to piece it together: a meeting, Mercer, and Conrad.

“When?” Dominic demands, his voice growing colder.

Adrian’s answer is brief, and Dominic ends the call with a curt nod. He turns to me, his expression unreadable. “Adrian found something. Conrad met with Mercer recently—someone high-ranking in the company.”

My pulse quickens. “What does that mean?”

“It means we’re closer to the truth,” he says, his gaze dark and determined. “But it also means we’re running out of time.”

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