Page 33 of Deceitful Oath

“Weird, what is this?”

I freeze, catching her before she stumbles on the stairs. We both stare at the filthy stone floor as water slowly pools around our feet. Lux glances up at me, confused.

Fucking hell, Enzo. I completely forgot about this.

Why are you so damn good at your job?

Chapter Twelve

Lux

With a firm grip on my hand, Dominic tugs me up the stairs. My shoes slip and slide across the wet stairs as we come to a stop on the landing. I shut my eyes, praying it’s not coming from my apartment.

“Damn, this looks bad.”

I open one eye and peek around the corner at my door. Dominic is already headed toward it but I’m frozen in place. Water is almost forcefully pouring from the cracks of the doorframe.

“No, no, no,” I plead, my body finally breaking out of my freeze response. I search for my keys, skating across the puddles in my slippery shoes.

When I unlock the door, a wave of water rushes over our feet. We wade into my flooded apartment and I spin around, taking in the destruction. Dominic circles the place, searching for the source of the flood.

Together, we locate a pipe under the sink that seems to have exploded.

“Can you shut it off somehow?” I plead, panic rising in my voice. He’s already down on his knees, shoving himself into the narrow cupboard under the sink.

“I’m not a plumber but I’ll try.”

As he tinkers with the pipe, I glance around my apartment. Books float slowly around the room, my empty canvases are ruined, and my thrifted rugs are soaked. Even my bed, with its trendy low bedframe, is almost fully engulfed in dirty water.

“I need to call my landlord,” I groan, sinking onto my damp couch. Whatever Dominic did under the sink slowed the flow of water, but I can’t pretend like this place is at all habitable.

Glancing at my phone, I decide six a.m. is a decent enough hour to call Roger, my landlord.

I take a deep breath and tap on his name, not ready to deliver another round of bad news. It’s bad enough that I had to tell my boss at the warehouse that my car was stolen, along with the packages, but now this.

“Yeah?”

I look down at my phone, shocked that he actually answered. I can’t do it. I can’t tell yet another person about yet another issue in my tragic life today.

So instead, I burst into tears.

“Jesus Christ woman,” I hear his gritty voice yell through the phone. “The sun isn’t even up yet. What the hell are you crying about?”

I glance helplessly at the kitchen but Dominic is already striding toward me, reaching out his hand.

“Let me deal with it.”

I gratefully pass him my phone and slump into the couch, trying to control the steady stream of tears flowing down my face. God, I probably look like a wreck right now.

“The whole place flooded,” Dominic says, walking back to the kitchen. I half-listen as he explains the problem, his voice getting deeper as Roger argues with him, no doubt.

“No,” he snaps, his voice sharp as a blade. “You will take care of it because it’s your building…”

Roger must have cut him off because his eyebrows rise in surprise. I’ve never seen this side of Dominic before, and if my whole life wasn’t falling apart right now, I’d find it very sexy. His dark eyes burn with anger. There’s an almost animalistic quality to them.

Anger for me. Not anger because of me.

He cares.

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