The bedroom was colder than she expected.
Not in temperature,but in presence.
The walls were a sleek charcoal gray, broken by the sharp outline of a fireplace that flickered low in the corner. No photographs. No clutter. Just shadows, silence, and a bed that seemed far too large for one man.
Dominic's world was control.
And this room was its heart.
"Get in," he said simply, stepping past her.
Leila hesitated by the doorway.
"What if I say no?"
He looked over his shoulder, eyes catching the firelight—those inhuman, glowing flecks of gold beneath the dark. That wildness. The one she'd almost forgotten lived under his skin.
"Then I'll carry you."
She believed him.
So, she climbed in.
The sheets were crisp. Clean. Expensive. She lay on the edge, muscles tight, facing the wall, heart pounding like a drum beneath her ribs.
Dominic said nothing as he unbuttoned his shirt. She heard the soft rustle of fabric, the thud of shoes hitting the floor. The mattress dipped slightly under his weight when he climbed in behind her.
But he didn't touch her.
He didn't have to.
His warmth blanketed her. His presence consumed the entire room.
"You planned the escape well," he said quietly after a long silence.
Leila swallowed. "You tracked me even better."
"You left a trail. Maybe not for the world. But for me? I know how you think, kitten."
Her spine tensed at the name. "Don't call me that."
"Why?" His voice darkened slightly. "Because it makes you feel something?"
"I feel disgust."
"No, you don't," he murmured. "You feel seen. And that terrifies you."
Leila clenched the sheet in her fist.
Then,
"I hate you," she whispered.
She felt the mattress shift as he leaned closer, his breath barely ghosting the shell of her ear.
"No, Leila. You hate that I saw the darkness in you… and didn't flinch."
She closed her eyes.
"Go to hell," she breathed.
"I've already been," Dominic said softly. "And now I'm building a kingdom in it,with you beside me."
He pulled back.
But he didn't sleep.
And neither did she.
She stayed curled on her side, trembling silently under the weight of his nearness. Of the way her body betrayed her,burning where his punishment still lingered, aching where he hadn't touched her at all.
He didn't lay a hand on her that night.
And that restraint was somehow worse than anything else he'd done.
The sun filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the dining room, casting soft gold across the gleaming black table. The space was quiet. Too quiet.
Leila sat at one end, her fork idling on the edge of her plate. She hadn't touched much,scrambled eggs, fruit, toast,but her appetite was as off-balance as everything else in her life.
Dominic sat at the other end.
Silent.
Composed.
And watching her like she was a puzzle he already knew the pieces to… but enjoyed watching her struggle with.
He hadn't said a word since they entered the room.
He didn't have to.
That gaze said everything.
It wrapped around her like velvet and chains.
"You could at least pretend to look at your food," she muttered, slicing into the eggs just to break the tension.
"I'm not hungry," he said simply, his eyes never leaving her face.
"For food," she murmured before she could stop herself.
The corner of his mouth lifted,just slightly. Dangerous. Knowing.
Before either could speak again, the door burst open.
"Wow, this place is still a crypt in the mornings," came a voice. Male. Lighter. Teasing. "You know, some of us use sunlight to function."
Leila turned sharply.
The man who entered looked to be in his late twenties, maybe early thirties. Tall, like Dominic, but where Dominic was thunderclouds and shadows, this one was all grins and mischief. Sandy hair, a worn leather jacket, and the confidence of someone who'd never had to earn a room,he just belonged in it.
"Caleb," Dominic said coolly, not rising. "You're early."
"You're late," Caleb replied, grabbing a slice of toast off the nearest tray like he owned the place. "You were supposed to visit two weeks ago. Mom thinks you've gone rogue again. Dad's making bets on how many more months it'll take before someone puts your face on a wanted list."
He spoke with warmth, but there was an edge there,underneath the humor. A blade dressed in charm.
Then Caleb's eyes fell on Leila.
And he stopped chewing.
"Ohhhh," he said slowly, a wicked smile blooming. "Now I understand. You've got your hands full."
Leila's spine straightened.
Dominic didn't react.
"She's mine," he said flatly. Possessively. Like he was warning an alpha wolf off his territory.
Caleb arched a brow.
"Didn't say she wasn't. Just… didn't think you did breakfast with anyone. I'm impressed. You're even wearing socks."
Leila coughed to cover a laugh.
Dominic's eyes narrowed slightly. "Don't push me."
Caleb grinned and extended a hand across the table toward her. "I'm Caleb. Younger, prettier, emotionally available Raine brother. Ignore everything he tells you about me."
Leila hesitated, then took it.
His grip was warm. Playful.
But Dominic's gaze sharpened, like that small touch had just crossed an invisible line.
She released it quickly.
The tension in the room shifted. Not heavy. Not hostile.
But charged.
Caleb leaned back against a nearby column, munching on the toast with a shrug.
"Well, brother," he said, smirking, "if I'd known your new situation was this interesting, I'd have shown up sooner."
Dominic didn't respond.
But under the table, Leila felt something brush against her ankle. A silent command.
Behave.
And for the first time that morning…
She smiled.
Because the game had just changed.
Leila found Caleb later that afternoon in the courtyard—lounging on a stone bench like he had no concept of danger, a steaming mug in one hand and a pair of sunglasses perched low on his nose.
"You're not very subtle," she said, approaching cautiously.
"I'm not trying to be." Caleb sipped his coffee. "You're braver than most, walking up to the family disappointment."
She folded her arms. "You don't strike me as the disappointing type."
"That's because you've only known me ten minutes." His grin tilted. "Stick around longer. I might ruin that first impression."
She studied him carefully. "Are you always like this?"
"Charming? Irritating? Deeply misunderstood?" He looked up. "Yes."
She tried not to smile. He made it hard.
"Dominic isn't exactly… open," she said. "You're the first person I've seen talk to him like he's not a walking threat."
Caleb's smile faded just slightly. "He wasn't always like that."
A beat of silence passed between them.
Then he added, "You've rattled him, you know."
Leila blinked. "What?"
"My brother," Caleb said. "Doesn't let people in. Doesn't keep them, either. But you… You're different."
She stiffened. "I'm not with him, if that's what you're implying."
"Right." Caleb raised a brow. "So you're just accidentally living in his fortress of shadows? Sharing his breakfast? Wearing his bruises like art?"
Her breath caught. "You don't know anything about me."
"No," he agreed. "But I can tell you're smart. Too smart to be caged… unless you're playing a longer game."
She didn't reply.
But Caleb saw the flicker in her expression,hesitation, calculation, the whisper of defiance.
"Dominic's obsessive," he said, lowering his voice. "He doesn't share. He doesn't let go. If you're in his world now, there's no neat exit strategy."
Leila looked away.
"I never asked to be here."
"Neither did I," Caleb said quietly.
Their eyes met. And in that moment, something passed between them. Not attraction,not quite. But recognition. Two people caught in Dominic Raine's orbit, walking a line between loyalty and rebellion.
Caleb stood.
"Be careful, Leila," he said, more serious than before. "My brother may be the monster everyone fears,but you? You look like the one who could become something worse."
She watched him disappear through the ivy-draped archway.
And for the first time since arriving in Dominic's world, she didn't feel entirely alone.