Page 79 of Queen Of Dark Money

Everythingabout this man was a mystery.Heapparently had a neighbor on speed dial with a very angry baby, who just so happened to be my size.He’dthrown us both in the bath in frigid water to shock me out of my panic attack, he’d fed me breakfast, and from whatIcould tell, there wasn’t some secret hidden staff on call here in his place, so that meant he’d cooked the food himself.Andthen he’d told off his bosses on my behalf–or at least,Ithought that was what the first conversation had been about.

Itwas hard to tell when you were only privy to one side of the conversation.

Istared down at a box stuffed to the brim with designer clothes, everything from silk pajamas to date night dresses, and even some lingerie with the tags still on it.Takingthis box of clothes felt odd, butDominickwas right.Icouldn’t wear his robe around all the time, and it wasn’t likeIplanned to go anywhere.He’dalso let me know the dressesI’dcome with, the black numberRiverbought me, and the silver diddyI’dbeen kidnapped in, were at the dry cleaners and would be back tomorrow.

Fornow, this was whatIhad to work with.

Islipped into a pair of leggings that had a labelIdidn’t even know made clothes like this, threw a cute tank top over them, and wandered out of the room feeling a lot more comfortable and a lot more grounded thanIhad this entire time.Somethingabout a good set of comfort clothing really helped you set your mind straight.

Ididn’t findDomin the study, nor was he in the bathroom he’d dumped me in an ice bath in, and the entertaining area space was also quiet.Iwas running out of places to search for this man, whenIstumbled across the kitchen area to find him humming to himself, skillet in one hand, spatula in the other, cooking, for fuck’s sake.

Hewas even wearing a fucking apron.

Jesus, was there anything more domestic-looking than this?Iraised my hand to silence a snorted laugh but wasn’t quick enough.Heglanced over the side of his shoulder and grinned. “Comeon, food’s almost ready.”

Iclimbed into a chair at the curvy table on the window wall and brought a knee up to my chin, sitting like a flamingo in the art deco chair.Myeyes followed him as he strolled over from the stove, a plate in each hand, and set one in front of me.

AndthenIblinked in surprise.

Asif breakfast hadn’t already been such a shock, he’d made us lunch–some sort of sandwiches, maybe grilled cheeses, but this bread and the cheese inside it smelled like gourmet products.Offto the side was a pile of onion rings that were clearly freshly battered, and the telltale smear of white flour on his apron confirmed that theory.

“Youreally are a fucking cook,”Ibreathed in wonder, reaching for an onion ring, only to have my hand smacked beforeIcould touch it.

“It’sfresh out of the grease, dammit, be careful,” he chided, his eyes narrowing. “Youhad breakfast.It’snot like you’re starving.”

“Itsmells good,”Iwhined, offering up the only excuseIhad for myself. “Itfeels . . . normal.Ineed normal.”

Theseat next to me made an awful screech as he tugged it away from the table and slid into it, a clone of my plate in front of him as well. “Wellthen, dig in,” he muttered, stuffing almost half his own sandwich in his mouth at once.

Fuck,Iwonder what else he could do with that mouth?

Weate lunch in amiable silence, he with laser focus, me distracted as fuck, constantly looking over and imagining him in different household scenarios.Asof yet, the only asshole out of these four who’d acted anything like whatIexpected from a rich dude wasStone, and even he was a bit eccentric.Thisone could cook, and he was friends with the single mom downstairs like he was her surrogate dad.Riverlived in his club, which wasn’t weird, when you stopped to think about how much that club was worth, how much time it consumed, and the effort that went into running it.

Atthe thought ofRiver,Sasha’sface drifted to the surface, andIgripped the onion ring in my fingers so tightly it flattened from the pressure.

Dominickglanced over and chuckled, a small smile playing at the edges of his mouth. “Youangry at me,Kenz?”

Ihad the wherewithal to let go of the damn ring and glanced out the window, a blush working its way up my throat. “No, just thinking of someone,”Imuttered, shaking my head.

“Oh, by the way, here.”Iheard something slide across the table and turned back to find my purse inches away from my plate. “Ifigured you might want this back.”

Igasped at the sight of it.Sure, to anyone else, a purse was a minor possession, but to me, this was a lifeline.Ireached inside and pulled out a phone–

–but it wasn’t mine.

Iturned to him in confusion, holding the thick black thing in the air for his perusal. “What’sthis?”

Heturned his attention back to his food, swiping some sauce onto his onion ring before popping it in his mouth. “Wecouldn’t give you the original back, soIhadDirkswap it with a replacement that couldn’t be traced and ditched the original.”

Iswiped my fingers over the screen and frowned asIsearched for the contacts app. “Samenumber?”

“Samenumber.Allyour contacts, apps, and everything should be in there.”Hechomped down on the last ring and reached for my plate, pointing at my lonely remaining ring and pouting. “You’renot finished with lunch.”

“I’mfull,”Idismissed him, returning to my phone. “Youeat it.”

Hepicked it up, andIthought that would be the end of the argument asIflipped over to theM’sin my contact book.Butseconds later,Ifelt his grip on my chin as he turned my head to face him.

“Open,” he commanded, holding that onion ring an inch from my lips.

---