Page 47 of The Don's Hidden Heir

Lucas is already in bed when I come back from work. It’s almost midnight and I stayed late preparing some paper work for the product my company is launching a week from today.

The maids are already asleep and the house is as quiet as I imagine a graveyard would be. I take a shower, wear one of my night gowns and go downstairs to fix myself a quick dinner.

I hit up some leftover pasta and settle down on a stool by the kitchen counter. The door swings open just as I’m about to start digging into my food and Dominic comes in.

He’s wearing a white pajamas and his hair is disheveled. His eyes aren’t swollen or red so I assume he wasn’t sleeping.

I drop my fork on the plate. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he says and walks to the fridge. He grabs a bottle of water and empties his down his throat. Squeezing the empty bottle, he tosses it into the wastebin. “You’re home late.”

“I had a lot of work to do. It was either I stayed late or I miss the deadline.”

He nods at my pasta. “Is that dinner?”

“Yes. I’d intended to make salmon and creamed spinach, but I’m too exhausted, so I settled for this.”

He scratches his jaw. “How about I fix you something to eat?”

I blink. “What?”

It’s been years since Dominic made me dinner. Nostalgia licks at my chest and memories from seven years ago swamp my head. Dominic is a good cook. An arrogant one, but good.

He made the best salmon I’ve ever tasted. I’m not certain in what state his cooking skills are, but if ithey’re anything like they used to be, then I already know what my answer is.

“Yes.”

He smiles and points at my pasta. “Let’s get rid of that first, shall we?”

Chapter Twelve

Dominic

“It smells so good,” Elena says and lick her lips as I set the plate of salmon and creamed spinach in front of her. “It’s almost too pretty to eat.”

Elena was the first person I cooked for who wasn’t one of my brothers and if I recall correctly, her reaction right now is what it used to be.

She does a little dance, moving her shoulders from side to side, with a full smile on her face. When she slices into the salmon and brings the piece to her mouth, she inhales before she eats it.

“Hmmm,” she moans, closing her eyes and relishing in the deliciousness of her food.

I gaze at her. She’s so fucking beautiful. She has no make-up on. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun, and she’s wearing a silky nightgown that does nothing to hide her nipples. They poke through the fabric, practically begging for my attention.

When Elena opens her eyes, she eats another piece and moans again. “God. I’ve missed your cooking, Dominic.”

She’s about to take another forkful when her eyes widen and she looks at me. It’s obvious she hadn’t intended to praise my cooking skills, but it’d somehow slipped past her barriers.

Red paints her cheeks and she chugs down a glass of water.

“Aren’t you hungry?” she asks quietly. “We can share.”

“I’d have made myself a plate if I was hungry.” Watching her eat fills me more than eating would.

She continues to eat and then says into the quiet, “Your brother, Vincent? I was expecting he would be here already.”

He would have, if the fucker hadn’t run off to LA. “He’ll be here in a few days,” I tell her. I don’t say that my brother is a feeble-hearted bastard who would rather run off to a different city than be here for his brothers at a time like this.

I also don’t tell her Marcus hasn’t been around because he’s gone to find Vincent.

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