Chapter 106: Chapter 106
Celeste drifted down the stairs.
Her steps were light but her heart was oddly weighted. The house was too quiet. She had been awake for over an hour, searching, but Dominic was nowhere to be found.
He was not in the study, not in their room, and not even on the rooftop where she had once found him staring into the night like it could answer questions no one dared to ask.
Her bare feet hesitated against the staircase when her eyes caught his movement below. She immediately let out a sigh of relief.
Dominic stood by the floor-to-ceiling window. His back frame was so gorgeous to look at. His shoulders looked carved out of shadow and steel. They were rigid yet graceful, the kind of posture that spoke of both command and restraint.
She blinked, seeing that he wasn’t alone. She consciously arranged her robe, and let her hair down, to cover her hickeys.
On the couch, Ronan lounged. His arm was thrown over the backrest carelessly. His gaze on Dominic was sharp, unrelenting. He was watching Dominic the way wolves watch one another—measuring, calculating.
"She’s making you too careful," Ronan’s voice cut through the silence. "She’s never fully safe until we end this."
Celeste froze on the step, her brows furrowing. His words rang with a quiet finality that stirred something uneasy in her chest. She immediately knew he spoke of her.
Dominic turned slightly. "Theresa—" his voice softened, and trailed off. His expression also softened, and was replaced by something warmer when he caught sight of Celeste. His lips curved. "Celeste."
His smile was boyish, almost unguarded, and it melted away the unease for a heartbeat. He looked really happy to see her.
He lifted a hand, beckoning her to come to him.
Celeste’s lips curved as well. She forgot herself, forgot Ronan, and ran lightly down the rest of the stairs.
Dominic caught her with ease. His strength wrapped around her in a hug. He lifted her, and spun her once. Celeste’s laughter instantly and innocently broke the tension in the room.
When he stopped, he pressed a kiss to her lips. His kiss was deep, and claiming, as though Ronan wasn’t sitting a few feet away. "How did my baby sleep?"
"I feel sore," she teased, whispering the words against his mouth, "but it feels good. Sleep felt so good."
Her eyes caught a half-empty coffee mug on the marble table nearby. Her brows came together. She let out a sigh, and stared at Dominic. Then, back at the mug.
"Want coffee?" Dominic asked, following her gaze.
She nodded, smiling softly. "I do."
He set her gently on her feet and brushed his lips across her forehead. "I’ll make one."
Her heart tripped at the simplicity of it, the domestic tenderness he gave so easily caused her heart to softly lip.
Her eyes softened. "I love you," she murmured, her cheeks brightly red.
Dominic tucked a loose strand of her hair back behind her ear. His fingers lingered around her face for a moment. His eyes locked on hers as he whispered back, "I love you."
Dominic reluctantly let go of her, and left for the kitchen. The moment he was gone, silence fell upon Ronan and Celeste. The silence was quietly suffocating.
Celeste crossed the room and sank gracefully onto the couch across from Ronan. His gaze flicked to her, then away, with an eye-roll so deliberate it might as well have been a blade thrown in her direction.
Her lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "I think you don’t like me, Ronan."
He inhaled deeply through his nose, slow, controlled, before finally meeting her eyes. His stare was cold, and unblinking. "Said who?"
Celeste arched her brow. "Says me. I’m not blind."
A muscle in his jaw ticked. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His voice was low when he spoke. "It’s nothing personal. I don’t like what you represent. I don’t like what this... situation has cost my brother. And I certainly don’t like the chaos you’ve brought into our family."
Her expression didn’t falter. If anything, it hardened, a cool sharpness slid into her voice. "Chaos doesn’t happen on its own, Ronan. It’s invited."
His eyes narrowed.
He thought about saying it. He thought about spitting the truth like poison, and reminding her she had been with his son before Dominic.
However, he didn’t. He swallowed it back, because saying it aloud would mean acknowledging just how much he despised the mess of blood and loyalty she had tangled them all in. And now, because of her, Dominic had woken up a long chain of enemies.
’She moved from my son to my brother in days. And Dominic calls it love.’ He tsked inwardly. Left for him alone, he was ready to conclude she was just here for the money, and so she could continue wearing thousands of euros even for something as simple as sleep foot wear.
Celeste leaned back, unbothered by his silence. Her legs crossed elegantly. "You don’t have to like me," she said, her voice quiet but edged. "But you’ll respect me. If not for my sake, then for your brother’s."
The words hung in the air, daring him.
Ronan’s gaze was sharp enough to cut, but her coldness met it without flinching. She also doesn’t like him.
He was a despicable human, if you ask her. He sold women, and kids for money, yet he sat down here, to lecture her about chaos, and situations.
Ronan’s stare lingered on her, hard and unreadable. There was no amusement in his eyes, and not even the faintest trace of tolerance.
His eyes just held a cold calculation. The kind that weighed people, stripped them bare, and decided whether or not they were worth keeping.
Celeste didn’t look away. She had nothing to hide from him, and even if she did, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her flinch.
"You think respect is owed," he finally said, "You haven’t earned mine, and might never."
Celeste tilted her head, "And I haven’t asked for it. Keep it. Choke on it. It won’t change what and who I am to Dominic."
His nostrils flared. For a second, she thought he might actually laugh, but instead, his lips pressed into a grim line.
She pressed further, her voice softer now, but with a bite. "The only opinion that matters to me in this house is his. Not yours."
Ronan leaned back slowly, the leather of the couch sighing under his weight. "You’re bold," he said after a pause, his tone more measured, but no less sharp. "You’ve already left wreckage in your wake. My son..." He stopped, clenched his jaw, then exhaled heavily through his nose. "And now my brother."
Celeste’s eyes hardened. She could almost taste the venom he was holding back, but she wouldn’t let him pour it on her. Not today.
"Your son made his own choices," she said coldly. "And so did Dominic. If that disturbs you, then perhaps it’s not me you should be angry at. Perhaps it’s them."
That landed. She saw it in the flicker of his expression, and in the brief tightening around his eyes. But Ronan was too practiced to let the wound show for long.
He leaned forward again, elbows braced on his knees, his voice dropping lower, more intimate in its hostility. "You don’t belong here, Celeste. You think you do because Dominic looks at you like you hung the moon. But love doesn’t erase history. It doesn’t erase blood."
Celeste’s lips parted, her brows lifting in mock amusement. "And money doesn’t erase the blood on your hands. Yet here you are, lecturing me."