Page 45 of Falling for the Grump Billionaire

The car hums beneath us as Dominic weaves through the quiet city streets. The golden glow of streetlights reflects off the windshield, casting shifting patterns over his sharp features. His focus on the road is unrelenting, and the tight grip on the steering wheel mirrors the tension rippling through the air between us.

“Do you think Conrad will show up again?” I ask, my voice breaking the silence.

Dominic doesn’t glance my way, his piercing gaze locked on the road ahead. “He has to. Mercer won’t let him disappear entirely—they still need him to complete whatever this is.”

His words settle like a weight in my chest. We’ve unraveled enough to see the edge of the conspiracy, but the full picture remains elusive. Every clue feels like it’s leading us deeper into a labyrinth we might not escape from.

“Why would Conrad risk everything for Mercer?” I wonder aloud.

“Greed, desperation—take your pick,” Dominic replies. “I’ve seen it too many times to count. When people think they’ve been wronged, they’ll do anything to tip the scales back in their favor.”

The edge in his tone is sharper than usual, almost personal. I glance at him, catching the flicker of something darker in his expression.

“And what about you?” I ask softly. “What would you do if someone took everything from you?”

His grip on the wheel tightens, and for a moment, I think he won’t answer. But then his voice cuts through the silence, low and unyielding.

“I’d take it back. By any means necessary.”

A shiver runs down my spine. Dominic Kane isn’t a man who makes empty promises—or threats.

The club looms ahead, a beacon of sleek modernity in the otherwise subdued neighborhood. Its glass façade gleams under the city lights, giving it an almost surreal quality. Dominic parks in a secluded spot near the back, his movements efficient and deliberate.

“We go in quiet,” he says as we step out of the car. “Let them think they still have the upper hand.”

I nod, my heart pounding against my ribs. The recorder tucked into my bag feels like a lifeline, a small assurance that we’re gathering more than just memories from this encounter.

Dominic leads the way, his broad shoulders cutting a commanding figure as we approach the entrance. The glass doors slide open silently, revealing a lavish interior of marble and gold. The air smells faintly of expensive cologne and fresh leather, a sharp contrast to the tension vibrating beneath my skin.

“Adrian’s inside,” Dominic murmurs, his voice low. “He’ll signal if anything changes.”

I glance at him, his jaw tight and his eyes scanning every corner of the room. This isn’t just a business confrontation for him—it’s a battlefield.

We ascend the grand staircase in silence, each step feeling heavier than the last. At the top, the lounge spreads out before us, a space of muted elegance and dim lighting. The low hum of conversation drifts through the air, punctuated by the occasional clink of glasses.

Adrian’s voice crackles faintly in Dominic’s earpiece. “They’re in the back, northwest corner. Two men. No obvious backup.”

Dominic gives a subtle nod, his gaze flicking to me. “Stay close. If anything feels off, you leave. No questions.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I reply firmly.

His lips press into a thin line, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he steps forward, his posture exuding confidence as he weaves through the lounge. I follow, my heart racing with every step.

We round a corner, and there they are—Conrad and the Mercer representative, seated at a small, round table near the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city skyline stretches behind them, a glittering backdrop to the tension crackling in the air.

Conrad looks up first, his face blanching when he sees Dominic. His gaze darts to me, then back to Dominic, panic flickering in his eyes.

“Well, well,” Dominic says, his tone laced with cold amusement. “What a coincidence.”

The Mercer representative—tall, sleek, and composed—leans back in his chair, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Mr. Kane,” he says smoothly. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Cut the bullshit,” Dominic snaps, his voice low and lethal. “We both know this isn’t a coincidence. Conrad, you’ve been busy.”

Conrad shifts uncomfortably, his hands fidgeting on the table. “Dominic, it’s not what you think—”

“It’s exactly what I think,” Dominic interrupts, his gaze boring into Conrad. “You’ve been selling me out to Mercer for months. Feeding them intel, sabotaging my company, undermining everything I’ve built. Don’t insult me by pretending otherwise.”

The Mercer representative chuckles, the sound cold and calculating. “Bold accusations, Mr. Kane. But where’s your proof?”

---