Dominic's Chronicles
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"Tell me why I have to be at this party again?" I asked Anna, my PA, tiredly.
"Sir, Mr. Alexander Sinclair invited you. He specifically asked you to come as his top business partner and friend," Anna replied, standing close to my table.
Since I became CEO of my family's companies at 19, I've been too busy to notice time ticking by. I don't even attend events anymore—and honestly, I prefer my life that way. Now, I'm 25 with loads of work on my desk, a best friend that also has companies to run but chooses to annoy me or talk about his own problems, parents that literally won't stop at nothing to make me miserable and a younger brother who's 22 but behaves like a kid anyway. It's not that I don't love them but at some point, they bring out the worst in me.
Adam, my childhood best friend, walked in just as I was gathering my thoughts.
"I don't get why they're forcing me to get married… I'm not a kid," Adam said angrily.
I chuckled and sighed. "Mom keeps setting up blind dates for me… Dad, on the other hand, had to stop her, telling her the big day's almost here. I still don't understand what he meant by that… but I have a bad feeling."
"You're still going to the event tonight, right?" Adam asked.
"Yeah, I am. Alex will sulk if I don't attend—not that I care though. You're not going?"
"Nah, I'm heading out of town tonight. My importers ran into a problem with a cartel in Mexico," Adam sighed, standing up to leave.
I didn't reply, letting the silence settle as I drifted into thought. People who don't know me call me stone cold because of how dominant I am. But Adam has been with me since day one. He's the only one I allow into my personal space—and he loves that privilege, trust me.
I wanted to go home, but I decided against it. Instead, I chose a suit from the many Anna had prepared for me, downed some liquor, and left for the event.
Parking my Ferrari in the reserved spot, I was surprised at how much effort Alex had put into this occasion. He really did mean it when he said he would. Was he expecting someone? I guessed I'd have to find out.
Walking in, I smirked as people at the door stepped aside. It felt good to be acknowledged.
I spotted Alex and his friends heading toward me. Julian—Adam's younger brother and one of Alex's closest friends—cracked a joke, and they all laughed. I rarely laugh, so I just smiled.
And then I saw her.
Alex had been fussing about me meeting his sister, and I finally gave in after much pressure. He glanced around before pointing her out.
She stood there in a gold gown, the slit high up her thigh. The fabric hugged her body, outlining every curve of her figure.
As Alex led me toward her, she must have felt my gaze, because she turned—and our eyes locked.
Light brown. They pierced through me like they were staring into my soul. For a moment, I melted. But then I quickly reminded myself of who I was.
I adjusted, straightened my expression, as Alex made the introduction. She stretched out her hand.
"Hi, my name's Dominic Blackwood. Nice to meet you, Aurora," I said, my tone cold. I wasn't about to let flirty thoughts bring down the walls I'd built around me.
I withdrew my hand from hers as quickly as I'd taken it, and followed Alex as he continued to introduce me to his business partners. They all knew who I was and tried to curry favor. Even the women threw flirty glances my way.
Alex had introduced me to every single person in the room—even his grandfather.
The old man had been a friend of my family for years and a close confidant of my grandfather. I respected him, though I kept it hidden behind the same impassive mask I wore for everyone else.
I was about to take a seat when a woman stepped deliberately into my path.
"Mr. Blackwood, such a pleasure to finally meet you. I'm Mrs. Berlin. You spoke with me and my husband earlier," she said, her voice low, flirtatious, dripping with intent.
I arched a brow, studying her without interest. "Yes, I remember. So, Mrs. Berlin, what brings you to me now?" My tone made it sound like I already knew—and found it bothersome.
Her lips curved into a coy smile as she leaned closer. "You know… I'd like you to partner with our company. And of course—with me. There are many things you could do for us… many things." She winked, her perfume cloying in the air between us.
I let the silence stretch, deliberately letting her confidence hang on a fragile thread. Then I smirked faintly.
"I don't think so, Mrs. Berlin," I said, my voice sharp as glass. "I have no interest in desperate women who dishonor their marriages by throwing themselves at younger men. If that's how you do business, you've already lost."
Her smile faltered instantly, the color draining from her face. I stepped past her without another glance, leaving her stranded in the middle of the room.
From the corner of my eye, I saw her stiffen, still frozen in place before she spat inaudible curses under her breath. The sting of humiliation clung to her like a second skin—exactly where I left it.
I was thinking of leaving when I caught the sound of muffled laughter from the far side of the hall. At first, I ignored it—until I noticed where their fingers were pointing. Straight at her. Alex's sister.
They huddled close, whispering like serpents, their lips curling with cruelty. She stood within earshot, pretending not to notice, but I saw it—the flicker of pain in her eyes, the way her hands tightened against her gown. She was breaking, silently.
Curiosity dragged me closer, though not close enough for them to notice me.
"I heard the Sinclair girl is mute… can't speak at all," one woman whispered, her tone mocking.
"She's a disgrace to the family. If I were her, I would've hanged myself a long time ago," the other replied, voice dripping venom. So she was mute. No wonder she didn't utter a word when I introduced myself.
Her face twisted in anguish; their words had pierced through. She turned quickly, almost fleeing, but her pace betrayed her. The gold hem of her gown caught beneath her shoes, and she stumbled—hard. The crash echoed as she toppled into a table. Glass clattered. Gasps filled the room… followed by laughter from those too cruel to mask it.
Her brother and grandfather rushed to her. She clung to her brother's suit, burying her face as her shoulders shook violently. Tears. Silent tears.
And then her eyes found mine. For a moment, I saw everything—her shame, her despair, her silent plea for the world to stop mocking her. Then she turned away, sobbing into her brother's chest as he carried her out of the hall.
The party ended for me right then. I walked out too.
But on the drive home, her face wouldn't leave my mind. Weak. Fragile. Easy to crush. And God help me, that fragility made me want to. I felt a flicker of pity, yes, but it burned away quickly. I don't tolerate weakness. And Aurora Sinclair was the very definition of it.