Page 3 of The Secrets We Hide

The restaurant was perfect – intimate lighting, a low hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses. Lucas was charming, engaging, and there was a lightness to him that hadn’t been as apparent at The Obsidian. We talked about our careers, our passions, the things that made us tick. There was a genuine connection forming, a sense of ease that surprised me.

The wine was a lovely crisp Sauvignon Blanc, and the conversation with Lucas had finally settled into a comfortable rhythm. We’d moved past the initial awkwardness of the club and the subsequent radio silence, finding a genuine connection in shared stories about our demanding careers and surprisingly similar senses of humor. I was starting to feel that familiar spark, that little flicker of possibility that always intrigued me. He was intelligent, charming, and there was a vulnerability beneath his polished exterior that I found undeniably appealing.

“So,” I said, swirling the remaining wine in my glass, “are you always this… composed, Lucas Christenson?” I gave him a playful smile, hoping to draw out the more unguarded side I’d glimpsed at The Obsidian.

He chuckled, a genuine sound that softened the sharp angles of his face. “Only when absolutely necessary, Ms. Langston. Underneath this tailored suit beats the heart of a man who once tried to build a working trebuchet in his backyard.”

“A trebuchet?” I laughed, genuinely surprised. “Now you have my attention. Did it work?”

Then, the hostess approached our table. “Mr. Christenson, there’s someone here to see you.”

I watched as Dominik approached our table, his eyes blazing with an intensity that made the air crackle. The possessiveness in his gaze as he looked at Lucas was unmistakable. It was raw, primal, and undeniably… intriguing.

Before he could answer, a shadow fell over our table. “Lucas?” a voice said, a low, slightly strained tone that immediately cut through the relaxed atmosphere.

I looked up, and there he was. Dominik. His dark eyes, usually so reserved, were blazing with an intensity that made the air around us feel suddenly charged. He looked from Lucas to me, his jaw tight, and the easygoing vibe of our dinner evaporated like mist in the morning sun.

“Dominik,” Lucas said, his voice betraying a flicker of surprise, maybe even… guilt? “What a surprise. We weren’t expecting you.”

Dominik’s gaze flicked to me, a brief, assessing look before returning to Lucas. “I didn’t realize you were having dinner.” There was an undercurrent in his voice, something that sounded suspiciously like… accusation?

I raised an eyebrow, a small, challenging smile playing on my lips. “Dominik. Fancy meeting you here. Lucas was just regaling me with tales of medieval weaponry.” I deliberately emphasized the casual nature of our interaction, though the sudden tension in the air was anything but casual.

The silence that stretched between them was thick with unspoken words, with the weight of that night at The Obsidian hanging heavy in the air. I could practically feel the invisible thread connecting them, a current of something intense and unresolved.

Lucas shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Dominik, why don’t you… join us?” It sounded more like a reluctant offering than a genuine invitation. Dominik hesitated for a fraction of a second, his eyes still locked on Lucas. Then, he pulled out the empty chair beside me, his movements stiff. “If you’re sure.”

And just like that, my pleasant dinner with the intriguing CFO had morphed into something else entirely. The air crackled with a possessiveness I hadn’t anticipated, and the easy flow of conversation had been replaced by a palpable tension. This wasn’t just a potential date anymore. It felt like I’d inadvertently stumbled into the middle of something far more complicated, and a part of me, the part that always enjoyed a good twist, was undeniably intrigued.

Chapter 4

Lucas

Dominik’s arrival at the restaurant was like a sudden shift in the atmospheric pressure. The easy flow of conversation with Molly stuttered, replaced by a taut silence that hummed with unspoken tension. His eyes, usually guarded and reserved, were now blazing with an emotion I couldn’t quite decipher, but instinctively understood: possessiveness. It was a raw, visceral thing, and it was directed squarely at me.

“Dominik,” I said, trying to keep my tone even, though a knot of unease tightened in my stomach. “What a surprise.” He didn’t take his eyes off me as he addressed Molly. “I didn’t realize you were having dinner.” His voice was low, a subtle undercurrent of something akin to… accusation?

Molly, ever the unflappable attorney, raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Dominik. Fancy meeting you here. Lucas was just telling me about his… interesting weekend.” There was a playful emphasis on the last word, and I shot her a warning glance that she completely ignored, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

The air crackled with unspoken words, with the weight of the shared intimacy at The Obsidian hanging heavy between us. It was absurd, this sudden intrusion, this unexpected confrontation in the elegant setting of a French bistro. Yet, beneath the awkwardness, a strange sense of… intrigue? Maybe even a perverse satisfaction? Dominik’s blatant jealousy was unsettling, but it also stirred something within me, a validation I hadn’t realized I craved.

“Why don’t you join us?” I offered, the words out of my mouth before I could fully consider the implications. It was a reckless invitation, a deliberate stirring of the pot. Dominik hesitated for a fraction of a second, then pulled out the empty chair beside Molly. He kept his gaze fixed on me as he said, “If you’re sure.”

The rest of the evening was a study in forced civility and simmering undercurrents. Molly, bless her audacious soul, navigated the awkwardness with a breezy charm, steering the conversation through neutral topics while subtly observing the dynamic between Dominik and me. Dominik, for his part, remained outwardly polite, but his gaze kept returning to me, a silent, intense communication that Molly couldn’t possibly decipher. I found myself torn. Part of me was irritated by Dominik’s unexpected appearance, the way it had disrupted my burgeoning connection with Molly. But another part, a more primal, selfish part, was undeniably… thrilled by his reaction. It was a confirmation of something I hadn’t dared to fully acknowledge – the unexpected depth of the connection forged in the darkness of The Obsidian.

As the evening drew to a close, the tension hadn’t dissipated. If anything, it had intensified. When I offered to walk Molly home, Dominik’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “I can take Molly,” he said, his voice flat. Molly, ever the independent woman, chuckled. “Gentlemen, I think I can manage a few blocks on my own. But thank you both.” She leaned in and placed a light kiss on my cheek, her eyes dancing with amusement as she glanced at Dominik. “It’s been… eventful.”

As I watched her walk away, Dominik turned to me, his expression unreadable. “What was that?” he asked, the question hanging heavy in the night air.

“Dinner,” I replied, trying to sound nonchalant, though my heart was beating a little faster than usual.

“You didn’t mention you were seeing her again.”

There was a definite edge to his voice now, the carefully constructed facade finally cracking. “We had a connection,” I said, meeting his gaze directly. “I wanted to explore it.” A muscle twitched in his jaw. “And where does that leave… us?”

The question hung between us, heavy with unspoken desires and the weight of our shared transgression. I didn’t have an answer. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to find one just yet. The delicious, unsettling chaos of it all was strangely… intoxicating.

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