Page 9 of Dominance

My palm smacks my face a second later.

Too bad she’s my nemesis’s daughter and I have no clue if I can trust her. Doesn’t make the sensation of floating when she’s near me any less confusing.

The feeling that I’ve been hijacked follows me home, through my shower, and into the sleek, deep-green shirt and dark-gray suit she picked out. Pulling up to the event center. I toss my keys to the valet.

I’m halfway to the door when I see her.

Holy. Fucking. Hell.

Head to toe, she’s glowing like a beacon guiding me to shore.

Copper locks curled and cascading down her shoulders, that alabaster skin, glittering under the lights, wrapped in the most stunning green gown I’ve ever seen. A hint of her perfect leg peaks out from the slit along the side as she shifts, turning back and forth slightly as she nibbles one nail, her eyes on her phone.

Instantly my skin prickles, my heart races, my brain shuts off, reboots, shorts out, and that stranger takes the wheel again. Fingers run back through my hair and I feel a grin pull at my lips.

“Am I early enough?”

“Just in time. I was not going in there alone.” She smiles and I’m spiraling. “Ten til, should we wait, or…”

“Ten? No you’re definitely an eleven, and we should get a drink to take the edge off of your dad’s inevitable cringy speech.”

“Couldn’t possibly be worse than your jokes,” she teases, prodding me in the ribs and looping her hand through my arm. Instantly I’m soaring to her touch, laughing at her jab. Thank God my brother Ciro isn’t here to hear me act the fool.

A silence falls between us as we enter, her body pressed against me, her touch setting me on fire. I can’t tell if she’s holding her breath, but I have to remind myself to breathe.

It’s comfortable, though, pleasant.

And when she glances at me and smirks, I swear that we’ve done this before. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Minus the pounding drum beat in my chest.

How does she manage to behave as if we’ve known each other for longer than a few weeks, and even more so, how does she manage to make me believe it?

I’m a damned fool. I’m so screwed if she’s playing me.

One foot, then the other.

Drinks in the lounge start the night, with Dom announcing our engagement to his guests. “This is a momentous event, the joining of my dearest daughter and one of my closest allies. It’s a tie that will bind our family back together, as it should have been all along.”

Unlike Gloria’s act, if it is that, I have a much harder time believing his sentiments and words. Although from his standpoint, it’s a valid way of solidifying and legitimizing his rule over the family.

Usher me into the fold, endear himself to the prominent members of the Diamante syndicate through his role as a father and wipe the slate clean of the blood he spilled to take his place. It makes sense from a strategic stance. And I hate it.

Delicate fingers squeeze my arm and I realize I’m tense, flexed and gritting my teeth.

“Hey, you alright?”

“Fine. Just a little…”

“Yeah. me too,” Gloria mutters, pressing her lips together slightly. “Did someone say shots?”

“Shots. Yes. Please.”

The whiskey is top-shelf, and her eyes never leave mine as we pound back our second, then a third. That grating edge scraping at my nerves slides off my shoulders, the warmth of the alcohol loosening me up.

“What now?”

“We could go socialize…” she offers, making a face.

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