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- Chapter 9 -

Dominic

Ileave like it's easy. Like my blood isn't screaming at me to turn around and face her - talk to her. Grab her in my arms so she can feel a hint of the pressure on the fabric of my being that swallowed me the minute she said my name.

It's not easy.

But I do it.

Years of training at military school have given me discipline. That alone wouldn't be enough to resist the pull, though. It's the lead-heavy weight of my inner demons that gives me the power to turn my back on Laiken.

The farther I get, the easier it becomes. I'm through the elegantly fashioned metal and painted glass front doors of the mansion in twelve steps. Inside, a security guard in plain gray is talking with a maid wearing matching colors.

He glances at me, then back again, aghast. His walkie-talkiebeeps,then crackles with a muffled warning that came too late.“Dominic Bradley is here!”

The guard turns his walkie off and faces me proudly. “Sir, I didn't know you were coming.”

Of course, my father didn't warn them.“Where's Silas?” I ask briskly. The maid is boggling at me. I don't recognize her. Six years can do a lot for staff turnover, especially with my mom's temperament.

“Your father?” the guy says stupidly.

The maid clears her throat. “Master Bradley is in his study, Sir.”

Not surprising.A number of awful memories creep on me. I crush them down, passing around the pair.

The guard steps aside, giving me a wide berth. “Welcome home, Sir,” he says, his words trembling on the corners. He's wondering why I'm back. The word will spread, then everyone will wonder.

Just like Laiken did.I make tight fists.Stop it. Focus.

The more time I dedicate in my head to her, the worse this is all going to be

for me... and for Laiken.

She didn't hear what happened.I'm still marveling at that. I was sure the whole house would be swelling with whispers about me. But then, Laiken was never the sort to gossip with the staff when we were young. She might have maintained her avoidance of the people working for my family this whole time.

It almost,almostgives me some hope. But I crush it down, because I know too well what hope is good for: creating a happy glow that leaves a darker shadow in its wake when it's snuffed out.

If Laiken is going to ultimately hate me, I won't indulge myself in her joy... in how her lips spread as she saw me standing in the driveway.

That smile was innocent.

And I'm certainly not.