At nightfall, the house was too quiet.
Too composed.
Too aware of her.
Maya prowled the room like a caged thought. Yesterday had been tough. Today her body ached, her mind throbbed, but her pride stood unbending like stubborn stone. Dominic was nowhere not at
breakfast, not in the west wing, not pacing the halls like a shadow armed with command and ice.
Which meant one thing:
He was in his study.
Maya hesitated only a moment before leaving her room fear was alive beneath her ribs, yes, but curiosity was louder. She needed answers. She needed to see him in daylight rather than under the weight of his authority.
But she wasn't the only woman seeking him.
THE STUDY AND THE WOMAN WHO ONCE BELONGED
Bianca stood in Dominic's private office with the ease of someone who hadn't needed permission to enter for years. She was beautiful tall, red-lipped, dressed in velvet that clung to her like sin and memory. Her presence smelled of old seductions and unburied history.
She smiled like a woman who believed she still had a place here.
"I came with a wedding gift," she said sweetly, placing a silver wrapped box on his desk untouched, unwanted. "But we both know I didn't come for her."
Dominic leaned back in his chair expression unreadable, posture carved from power and absence of need. He looked at Bianca the way one looks at old wine once good, now irrelevant.
"Say what you came to say."
She laughed softly, approaching him slowly, hips swaying like invitation and nostalgia.
"Dominic… why her?" Bianca's voice lowered, sultry and confident. "Why Maya, when you could have had me? You chose a trembling girl over a woman who knows exactly how you like to be obeyed."
Dominic's reply was bone cold.
"Because I owe you nothing. We were done the moment I walked away."
Bianca blinked hurt, disbelief, fury flickering like sparks beneath mascara.
"You never even explained"
"I don't explain," he cut in.
Not loud. Not cruel.
Just final.
"And Bianca…" he stood, towering, the room shrinking beneath his presence,
"I've never repeated the same woman twice."
The words hit like gunfire.
Bianca's breath shuddered humiliation crawling up her throat, painting anger high across her cheeks.
Still, she stepped closer.
"A first time doesn't forbid a second," she whispered, fingers slow as they traced toward his chest, "Unless you're afraid you might want me again."
For a heartbeat, she hovered inches from him perfume thick, lips parted, a memory trying to resurrect itself.
Dominic did not move.
Did not lean.
Did not crave.
Emotionless, untouchable, he stepped back.
"Don't mistake access for value."
The room froze around the words.
Bianca's jaw tightened the first woman in years who failed to make him react.
But at that moment
Maya's voice cut faintly through the hall, muffled by distance and a guard's refusal.
"I need to speak with him let me pass."
Dominic's head turned sharply.
Bianca smiled a venomous curve.
"She sounds desperate already."
THE DOOR AND HIS WRATH
Outside, Maya stood faced with two of Dominic's elite guards tall, armed, unmoving.
"He doesn't want to be disturbed," the taller one said, stepping forward.
Maya stood her ground even though fear punched through her chest.
"I don't care."
He blocked her again louder this time.
"I said"
Dominic's voice cut through like a quiet storm.
"Let. Her. In."
The guard froze.
Dominic stepped into view sharp shouldered, cold eyed. Each word that followed was slow enough to carve dread into bone.
"You spoke to me wife? you looked at my?"
The study fell silent.
"For that you will spend three days in the dungeon."
No one breathed.
Not Bianca.
Not the guards.
Not even Maya.
The guard swallowed and bowed his head. Another immediately stepped forward and dragged him away no plea, no forgiveness granted.
Because in this house, Dominic's word was law.
He turned to Maya.
Only her.
"Come."
His tone softened by a fraction not kind, not gentle, but exclusive. Maya stepped past the threshold, pulse stumbling when she saw Bianca standing inside like a ghost who never left.
Bianca's smile returned hungry, jagged, dripping contempt.
"Well," she said sweetly, "Hello Maya Sinclair, the entire city whispers about you"
Maya didn't flinch but her fingers curled slightly at her sides.
Before she could answer
Dominic's voice sliced the room clean.
"She is Maya Deluca and You will not speak to my wife again."
Bianca's smile died.
Dominic didn't raise his voice. Didn't threaten.
He simply commanded, and the world obeyed.
"Leave," he finished.
Bianca hesitated seconds ticking like war drums but she saw it in his face:
She no longer held a single piece of him.
She walked out stiff backed, wounded pride in every step.
The door shut.
Silence.
Dominic and Maya stood alone like in a battlefield with no witnesses.
THE QUESTION THAT BURNED HER
Maya approached him slowly cautious, furious, aching and confused.
"Tell me honestly, Why didn't you touch me on our wedding night is it because you see me as a purchased commodity that you keep and have other women satisfy you?"
His eyes didn't move from her.
"Because as I told you once," Dominic said, voice low and controlled,
"I do not touch what isn't ready."
She laughed sharp, cold, disbelieving.
"Not ready?" she echoed. "You married me like cargo delivered to its owner but suddenly respect matters?"
He stepped closer deliberate, unhurried.
"You think you were chosen for affection?"
Her throat tightened.
Her pulse raced.
She hated that he could see every flicker of emotion she tried to bury.
Dominic's hand rose slow, intentional fingers catching her chin, forcing her eyes to his.
"I don't do affection, I don't want a wife who bends," he said.
"I want one who breaks."
Maya's breath shook not with weakness, but with fury.
"And you think I'll just lie beneath you and let you take what you want?"
"I don't just take," he murmured.
"I wait for you to give, I don't make love I devour, and I can have any woman I want, women beg me and trust me you will"
His thumb dragged slow along her jaw a touch without tenderness.
"I see how your body shivers each time I touch you, you want me to touch you and when I finally do, you will beg me in pleasure never to stop, but I won't take your virginity until you are ready and begging me and trust me you will"
" Maya, you will beg me, you will beg to be held by me, you will beg me to touch you, you will beg me to make love to you, And on that day, you won't want passion. You'll want to be devoured entirely by me"
Maya's heart thundered fear and heat tangled like poison and sugar.
Then she laughed, bright, sharp, dangerous.
And she spit on him.
"Never. I would rather die than beg you."
He did not wipe it away.
He simply smiled, slow, dangerous, certain.
"The day will come," he said.
Then he turned and walked past her, leaving the scent of control and promise behind him like smoke trailing a lit fuse.
Maya stood shaking not from submission.
From awakening.
Because now she knew:
Bianca was not her enemy.
Fear was.
And Dominic?
He was the war she would burn or be burned by.
There was no middle anymore.