[ S E R A P H I N E ]
My nap is cut short when my phone buzzes between my thighs. I sit up and hastily fix my hair, the grogginess replacing the dizziness I've been ignoring all day. I sigh at the useless notification on my screen.Just another spammy email. "Ugh." I unbuckle my seat belt and stretch my back.The rain has stopped, and we're finally somewhere familiar. We're here in the spacious parking lot of my workplace. Dominico steps out of the car after parking the Maserati in the dimmer corner, just across the lobby.When I step outside, the evening air nips at my bare skin, and the place looks quiet. Typical on weeknights. There are several vehicles around us, but I think they're mostly my coworkers'.Dominico leans against the driver's window and doesn't look up from his phone even after I step in front of him. “Good nap?”I put on a smile despite the soreness in my legs and feet. My entire back needs a good crack, but I don't really have the time or money for regular appointments at the chiropractor's. “Thanks for the ride.”Dominico gives me a nod and nothing more, apparently busy with something. Must be a work email. Or a text from his girlfriend.Is he seeing anyone? Another famous model or actress? Maybe an Italian celebrity this time?I think I need to stalk him online again. I don't wanna ask him about his dating life. It's obvious he thinks I'm too nosey for my own good. “I can fix something up in the kitchen if you're hungry.”“Can't stay. I'm meeting someone.”Of course. A busy corporate executive like him doesn't have much free time on a work night. “Right. Go. And buy a new ice pack for your nose.”“I think this is yours,” he mumbles before grabbing something from the rear seat.“What?” I nearly gasp when he hands me my trench coat. It's folded neatly, and it still smells like my perfume. Perfect for tonight's chilly weather. “Thank you.” A giggle escapes me. “This was sitting right behind me the whole time?”Dominico didn't mention anything during the drive. With a blank face, he grabs my bag to hold it for me so I can put on my coat.My face warms up. I smile at him, not expecting the gesture at all. I know he's just being the gentleman he is, but it almost feels like he's being extra friendly to a stranger he just met. “Thanks. Again.”“Forgot to tell you,” he mutters while sliding his phone into his jeans pocket. “Found it hanging in the closet.”“I completely forgot about it.” I fake a little laugh and shake my head.“You barely slept and you worked your ass off all day. I'm surprised you're still conscious.”“Me too, actually.”“Go straight home. Get some sleep.”“D'you, um...” I itch my forehead and glance down at his buzzing phone. “You still need my number?”“I might.” Dominico grins, his tone almost teasing. “If you don't text me first, I won't answer your call.”Right. Of course.He doesn't take calls from unknown numbers, because he doesn't give his personal number to just anyone.So... Does that mean I'm no longer a stranger?We stare at each other for what feels like a whole minute, standing under the yellowish lamplight, but the silence isn't too awkward anymore. I look away first. I tie my coat's belt around my waist, pushing down the urge to give him a quick hug.Crap. I'm deliriously tired. I better find a bed in five minutes.I take a few steps backwards and feign another smile. Barely three feet of damp pavement separates us, and if I get any closer to him, he might think I'm onto something. “I'll message you first,” I say with a nod, faking a casual tone while my coat covers up my bare midsection.“Talk to your supervisor.” Dominico flings a glance towards the brightly lit entrance to the quiet lobby.“I will.”“Make sure you still got a job.”“Yeah.” I hold in a sigh. I don't wanna look or sound too defeated by the possibility. In fact I'm still hoping his father isn't the vindictive asshole Dominico says he is every time something doesn't go his way.“Need anything, just text or call,” Dominico says in a no-nonsense tone. A gust ruffles his wavy jaw-length hair. The sincerity in his watchful eyes clashes with the unsettling reality of the position I'm in.But I don't wanna dwell on negative things. I need proper rest. I won't get enough sleep if I don't force a better grip on my thoughts right now. “Why're you being so nice?” I hug myself.“I don't look like a nice guy?” he retorts with a slight grin, his gaze unwavering.Like my cheeks, my throat warms up at his real smile. It's weird how I wasn't fond of dimples on a guy until I saw his up-close. I muffle a breathy laugh with my fist, my heart already pounding in my chest. But I'm chalking it up to the exhaustion and lack of sleep. “You know that's not what I meant.”The faint grin on his angular, stubbled face disappears when he steps closer to me with his fingers in his pockets. “I can't be nice to someone who works for my family?”“No. I... You... That's not what I...”As if to break the awkward moment, Dominico chuckles and resumes texting on his phone.I take tentative steps closer to him when the swollen, pinkish skin on his nose triggers another concerning thought. “Hey.”“Yeah?”“Dom,” I say louder when he doesn't look up from his phone. “Can I touch your face?”A look of confusion and surprise crosses his squinting eyes. “Why?” He stares back at me.“Tsk. I told you to keep icing it.” Without waiting for him to answer my question, I get close enough to smell his breath and tilt his head, my palms gently touching his jaw. I lean in.My heart starts beating louder at his questioning look. Using my phone's flashlight, I check the inside of his nose.No visible blood clot. No nasal valve collapse. For now. But his airways still appear a bit narrower than how they're supposed to look. Or is it just the angle?“I'm fine.”“Use a small icepack.”“I will,” he murmurs with a grin, his dark stubble scratching my palms. Dominico steps away from me after I turn off the flashlight.“Or just drop by a clinic if the swelling doesn't go down.”“Yep.”I make a face when he continues texting. “I'm serious, Dom.”“Yeah. I know,” he mumbles with a quick nod.“It doesn't look any better.”“You like to worry, don't you?” His brows wrinkle. “Relax. I'm not gonna die from a nosebleed.”I scoff and roll my eyes. “A nose injury is still an injury.”He leans against the driver's window, his phone gripping his attention. “I've slept through worse, Seraphine.”What's that supposed to mean?“Anyway, if anyone asks, tell 'em we're seeing each other.”What? Seeing each other? As in... We're dating? “I don't... Sorry. What?” I say louder while my gut clenches.“Just so he hears about it from other people.”Is he joking? “Hold up. Who exactly are we talking about?” Is he talking about his dad?Dominico keeps up a straight face and merely glances at me. “My father.”I almost laugh at his serious tone. “You want me to, er, tell everyone we're...”He nods slowly before staring at his phone again, shrugging faintly as his fingers get busy. “Sure. For the meantime.”What the heck?He can't be serious...The moment my parents hear about it, my mom will either have a heart attack or throw a huge party. "You want me to tell them I'm your girlfriend?" Am I dreaming? Or hallucinating?"Make up some story about how we met if anyone asks. Just be consistent."Oh no. He's actually serious. I cover my mouth and try not to gawk at him, my chest growing tighter at his deadpan tone. I want to laugh out loud, but he might find it insulting.Dominico turns to his right and stares at the entrance to the lobby, doing a quick wave with his hand as if to tell me it's time to say goodbye. "Gimme a call after you talk to your boss.""Why?" If I get sacked tomorrow, is he gonna offer me a new job?Leaning against the Maserati, Dominico chuckles while the door to the driver's seat opens. "Anyone ever tell you you ask a lot of questions?""Wait. What did you mean?""I gotta go.""Why d'you want me to call you?" I scoff when he only gives me a mischievous grin while sitting behind the wheel."Get some rest." The door shuts with a soft click. After he revs the engine, the guy drives off without another word.•[ S E R A P H I N E ] My mind won't stop racing. All this overthinking is making me dizzy again. The dim glow of my night lamp doesn't help much. I need four more hours of sleep, but my brain won't give it a rest now that I'm all alone again. I'm back here in my quiet apartment, my body tired as ever, but my swirling thoughts are too loud to shut off. “Ugh.” I don't think I'll make it through this week in good health and sane. I wanna blame Dominico...even though it's not really his fault. The guy's just trying to help. My conscience keeps reminding me to thank him again for keeping his pervy father away from me and for escorting me off that yacht, and then driving me back to the country club.But is it all an act? Does he have ulterior motives? Or he's just a decent human being I luckily bumped into? The latter seems true, but my gut still says it's a bit of both. I can't think of a particular reason why Dominico thinks being my protector (and fake boyfriend?) will do him any fav
[ D O M I N I C O ]“You found Ottavio?”“Not yet.” I look away from the cloudy sky and glance at Enzo.He just got back from New York. After another meeting with his top executives this morning, he picked me up just so he won't have lunch alone with his bodyguards. Like most weekdays. Today he looks like the suited up FOH manager who overspends on his clothes, while I'm dressed like the head chef who goes out to smoke halfway through service. Not like anyone in this place cares. Unless I'm at a big corporate event, I usually don't give a shit about how I look when I'm not at work. I'm getting old, turning 30 soon, and this generation's obsession with impressing other people they don't even know is getting fuckin' ridiculous. “But I'm sure his ex knows where he's hiding.” “You found Freja's new address?” Enzo mutters as his left hand distractedly fixes his gray suit jacket. It almost matches the checkered tablecloth, but he's still the best-dressed among this hour's customers. “On
[ S E R A P H I N E ]It's been a few days since that yacht party. I hope he's not pissed that I'm showing up an hour late. Where is he? Why does he want us to meet here? This looks like a high-end jewelry shop. The gilded doors alone look like they cost more than everything I own. I stand outside the shop, the late afternoon sun bathing the quaint store in a warm glow. I'm waiting for my phone to ring while peeking at the sparkling displays of gemstones and metals. Maybe he chose this place since it's near the country club. It doesn't look crowded inside. Only four people are browsing the impressive selection of bespoke jewelry, but I still don't want to go inside by myself.I can't seem to get rid of the tension inside me. Can't just walk it off or sit it out like a random tummy ache. I hold my breath when my phone dings with a new message from Dominico, asking me if I'm nearby. I reply with a short text: [ I'm outside the store. White shirt. ]Clasping my satchel, I watch the cu
[ S E R A P H I N E ] Long shadows dim our path as we exit the store, the sun dipping lower in the sky. The warmth of the evening feels nice, unlike the terrifying reality his suspicions are forcing me to wrap my head around. We walk away from the picturesque sidewalk with Dominico glancing over his shoulder. Before we reach the Maserati, he looks behind one more time and puts his arm around my back. Like he's waiting for some sketchy guys to pop up out of nowhere and kidnap me. Just thinking it could happen makes my insides churn. My legs and feet are overworked after that ten-hour shift, but my brain can't seem to process most of the pain. I just know I need a quiet, private space where I can regroup my thoughts before we go anywhere else. “Hey. I-I really don't mind taking the bus. You don't have to drive me to the...”“Stay close.”“Why?” I almost glare at my “date” and stand beside his ride. Should I give him gas money now? Or just let him escort me all evening like a hired bo
[ S E R A P H I N E ]“Are you home?”“Just got home.”“Oh. Okay.” So his house is only an hour away from here. Is he still alone? Parking the Maserati in his garage? How many cars does he own? A trust fund kid like him probably has a few luxury cars at the very least. “D'you need something?” His voice sounds slightly hoarse, his tone laced with concern.“A whole day just for sleeping. A two-week paid vacation.”“Why're you still up? I told you to rest.”Lying on my back with the lights off, I smile at the concern behind his short semi-rant. I'm already in my room, all showered and about to doze off. Yet I can't stop thinking about him and the things we've talked about. “I'm trying.”Dominico sighs on the other end, as if he's getting annoyed that I called him too soon. “Get off the phone. Turn it off and sleep.” “You're startin' to sound like my dad.” “We're meeting up tomorrow. Can't have you cranky and hating me all day.”Hating him? “Tomorrow? Why?” Are we going on another "dat
[ S E R A P H I N E ]I have 39 minutes left. Where the heck is he? Does he think I have a two-hour lunch break? Maybe a CFO like him does. “Must be nice,” I mutter under my breath. If he doesn't show up in five minutes, I'm heading back to the staff lounge. I don't really want to, but at least it's safer there. Too crowded in case his father tries to corner me and harass me again. Too many witnesses. Too many mouths to silence. The creep might just have second thoughts about trying to cop a feel again.I cringe at the memory. I still remember every second. Some nights, my brain loves to replay those horrible ten seconds as if to remind me that I still have feelings. That I've been wronged. Mistreated. Humiliated. Victimized.But, no. I refuse to feel like a victim. Nope. Not now. Our one and only family business is in the red. About to go bankrupt, in fact, if we don't do something drastic soon. I don't have the luxury of taking a couple days off. To recover. To recharge. To do s
[ S E R A P H I N E ]This ring is gorgeous. Subtle but elegant. Marquise cut. At least one carat, I'm guessing.No doubt it's a real diamond. I've told him to just buy something cheap. Obviously he doesn't want me to wear a fake.I don't know how he actually knows my size. I didn't try any of the rings in that store. Nor do I remember him asking.Shoot. This is actually happening. We're engaged now. Engaged! Jeez... What's gotten into him? A bouquet and a fake proposal in broad daylight? In front of all these people?Is he drunk? No, he can't be. He doesn't look or smell intoxicated. Maybe it's some kind of PTSD or paranoia? Or is he going off the rails? We stare at each other, putting on our best happy-new-couple smiles, ignoring the noise around us while he gets up to stand in front of me again. Dominico steps closer, his gaze unwavering. Almost unnerving. I don't back away or get rid of my smile. I want to, but I can't cry on cue, so... This will have to do. “I can't believe yo
[ S E R A P H I N E ]I think I need to run. Hide. Go somewhere foreign and remote where no one knows a thing about me. Dominico won't say it to my face. But only because he thinks it will trigger a panic attack, or something worse.I don't need him to tell me my suspicions are true. I already know I'm in dire straits. I heard too much that night, and his father knows. Why else would Dominico tell his bodyguard to keep an eye on me?The tub is almost full, though I'm not sure a cold bath will do anything to calm my mind. The sound of the faucet running echoes as I try to silence my thoughts.Next to the white tub, I stretch my neck and back. I wince at the aches in my muscles. It's more or less the cortisol from all the stress. The anxiety. The sleepless nights...A buzzing noise disrupts the silence as I'm untying my robe. I rush to the sink and grab my phone, only to frown at another text from Dominico:[ Call me if you hear or notice anything strange. ]Strange? Like what? A broke