I don’t know if Dom thought he was protecting me or if he thought he was cleaning up a mess before it could derail the empire we built.
But Genevieve isn’t a fucking mess. She’s the only thing in my life that ever made sense. She was never the threat. Dom was.
I’m not surprised to find Dom in his office this late. He’s just closing his laptop, his bag half-packed. His head snaps up when he sees me, and for the first time, he looks nervous.
Good.
I stop in his doorway. "We’re done," I say, voice cutting across the quiet.
He straightens, setting the laptop aside. "Sebastian?—"
“Did you think I wouldn’t look into this myself? You didn’t even try to hide your trail, Dom.”
The color drains from his face, but he doesn’t deny it.
"I needed you to be loyal," I continue, every word hitting harder than the last. "But you’re not, are you?"
His jaw clenches, but again, he says nothing.
"You’re finished here. Effective immediately. Leave your badge, your keys, your access credentials on the desk."
There’s a long, tense pause. I don’t fill it.
Dom’s hand tightens around the strap of his bag, his face twisting into something ugy. For a second, I think he might do the smart thing—just leave, salvage what little dignity he has left.
Of course he doesn’t.
"You think she loves you?" The words hit the air like poison. "You think she’s any different than the others?"
Dom sneers, stepping closer, just inside the boundary he knows better than to cross. "She’s using you, Sebastian. Using all of you. Silas. Max. She saw an opportunity and took it. You’re just following your cock and you can’t see it."
I watch him, unflinching. Let him hang himself.
"She’s got you wrapped around her finger," he spits. “You think the pregnancy was an accident? Even after she jumped into bed with your two best friends, playing the poor, abandoned girl? And what happens when she gets bored? When the money dries up? She’ll move on to the next big thing, and you’ll be the pathetic asshole left picking up the pieces."
His voice gets louder, the desperation bleeding through. Not righteous anger. Fear. Fear that everything he gambled on is slipping through his fingers.
"You think you’re building a life with her?" Dom laughs, a rough, ugly sound. "You’re building a fucking noose, and you’re handing her the rope."
I let the silence stretch, wrapping around him, tightening until even he can’t pretend he hasn’t overplayed his hand.
Finally, I speak. "Are you finished?"
Dom’s mouth snaps shut. His face is flushed.
I take a slow step forward, forcing him back. "You don’t get to rewrite the story just because you lost. You don’t get to tear her down to justify your own betrayal."
He opens his mouth, but I don’t give him the chance.
"Genevieve didn’t lie. She didn’t scheme. She didn’t manipulate. I’m the one who decided to skip out on the condoms. I’m the one who walked away and threw her at them.”
Another step. Another retreat.
“It wasn't your place to try and handle me. And using Heather Langley of all people. You had to know I would be suspicious.”
“Don’t come crawling back to me when this blows up in your face.”
“If you ever show your face around her again," I say, my voice dropping into something cold and final, "I’ll make sure you regret it."