I headed for the side hallway, the crowd noise dulling with each step. Halfway down the corridor, a voice slid into the space between my thoughts.
“You collect my brother now?”
I didn’t have to turn. My body had apparently decided it could recognize Dominic Valerio by the exact frequency of irritation he triggered.
“Relax,” I said, not slowing down. “He’s not a limited edition.”
Footsteps matched mine instantly. Controlled. Unhurried. He didn't just walk; he tracked.
“He isn’t a toy,” Dominic said. “Find entertainment somewhere else.”
I stopped. I set the box down with a dull, heavy thud and finally turned to face him. He stood a few feet away, hands in his pockets, crowding the hallway with that sheer, suffocating presence.
“If this is you accusing me of gold-digging, you’re late to the insult, Valerio. You beat yourself there in the pool house. And that version had more creativity.”
“I care about it plenty,” he said, his gaze dropping to my crossed arms with a chilling sort of focus. “Empty accounts make people desperate. And desperate people make for expensive mistakes.”
His eyes didn’t linger, but they didn't have to. I saw the way his pupils flared, the dark centers swallowing them for a fraction of a second as his focus caught on the curve of my chest braced against my arms. The muscle in his cheek didn't just jump; it locked, a hard white knot appearing beneath his skin. He yanked his stare back to mine, his expression flattening into something merciless, as if he could wipe away the evidence of that one, involuntary look.
“I care that Luka is too trusting,” he continued, his voice dropping into a register that was lower, harsher, “and yourfamily has a talent for walking straight into fires like you’re searching for the heat.”
“Your brother was the one who dragged me into your beach circus,” I said.
“You could have said no.”
“I did. You’re just used to people folding when you walk into a room. I didn’t get the memo.”
It was a lie, and a blatant one. I hadn't said no once. I’d hesitated, sure, but the second the helmet was in my hands, I’d been all in. Admitting that I’d been just as hungry for the adrenaline as Luka was for the chaos felt too much like giving Dominic a win he hadn't earned. So, I let the lie sit between us, sharp and armor-plated.
His expression seized tight, like I’d jammed a wrench between his teeth. “Stay away from Luka. He doesn’t need the fallout that follows your last name around.”
The words landed low. Heavy. There it was—the stain that never washed out. I stepped toward him, tilting my chin up to keep our eyes locked.
“Say my father’s name,” I murmured. “Go ahead. You’re dying to.”
Something flickered across his face. Not guilt. Not satisfaction. A seam splitting open in the armor. “No,” he said finally. “That’s your weight to haul, not mine.”
“How considerate. Threaten me, judge me, but don’t say the name. That would make you responsible for something.”
His mouth curved without humor. “I’m responsible for more than you know.”
“Is this the part where you warn me that being near Luka will compromise your 'dynasty brand'?” I asked. “Because I promise you, the last thing I want is a front-row seat to your family drama.”
“Then stop standing in it,” he said.
“The closet’s at the end of the hall,” I said, jerking my chin toward the door. “So either get out of my way or let me pass.”
I moved to hoist the box, but Dominic didn’t step aside. Instead, he reached down, his hand clamping over the opposite handle before I could even clear the floor.
“You’re going to drop it,” he said, his voice flat and clinical. “The last thing this event needs is a Hayes scuffing the merchandise before it even hits the floor.”
“I’ve handled heavier things than a box of keychains. Let go.” I gave the box a sharp yank toward my hip. He didn't budge. He was a human anchor, rooted to the spot.
“I’m sure you have,” he murmured, his eyes narrowing as he mirrored my pull, dragging the box back to center. “But I don’t like the odds of you making it down this hall without a disaster. I’ll supervise the transit.”
“Supervise? You mean do the job for me?”
“I mean I’m not letting you out of my sight until this is off the floor.” He didn't let go. If anything, his grip tightened.
