I walked until I reached the edge of campus, then walked further. I left my suit and leather shoes in the car. Then I ran a few miles, maybe ten to fifteen, like a maniac. By the time I made it back to the tower, the dark had settled, but I was still seething. I took the stairs up instead of the lift just to burn the irritation off, but it didn't work.
As I rounded the last landing, I slowed. Voices?
I entered through the fire door, and found the den was lit. Dom's voice came first—steady, but came with that edge he used when discussing things that shouldn't be real. And Allegra was there too, pacing the floor near the window.
"I'm telling you," she said, "something's been moving. There's been the same type of missing person reports in the past 6 years—female, in their late teens or early twenties, mostly backpackers or solo living arrangement. They do it clean though. The investigations show no common links except the location. They're all happening in the hinterland."
Dom's voice followed, lower. "Did the recent body match the pattern?"
"In age, yes. Cause of death? Unclear. But I found something sus. The farmer who found her? He said people were pressuring him to sell the property a week before the discovery."
"Did he say who?"
"No. Just said 'they' left notes and called late at night. That kind of pressure."
I hovered just out of view with my back pressed to the wall beside the open kitchen.
Allegra continued, "The council marked the land for possible zoning changes a year ago, but it got buried in red tape. And suddenly now, a body shows up on the same lot? Dominus, someone's trying to shut those farmlands quietly."
Dom didn't reply right away. I imagined him rubbing his jaw, staring at the map he always kept on hand when something got under his skin.
Allegra spoke again, her voice shifting gears. "By the way, your girl."
"Don't call her that."
"Right. That girl you asked me to look into. Eleanor."
All of me stopped dead.
Allegra's tone dropped a notch. "She's clean."
Out of curiosity, I stepped closer, just to the edge of the wall.
"Her profile's nothing unusual. The father's the interesting one—"
I suddenly got distracted by a rustle behind me.
I straightened instantly as Aspen's voice rang out. "Why do you always come home like a criminal?"
I turned to face him, deliberately loud. "Because I like the stairs."
Aspen raised an eyebrow. "No one likes the stairs."
He stepped inside, tossing his jacket toward the back of a chair. I followed, pretending I hadn't just heard half a conversation I was never meant to.
Dom gave me a brief glance, unreadable as always. Allegra didn't look surprised to see me, but she did close her tablet and slide it into her bag.
"Miss me?" Aspen grinned, walking straight toward the bar. "I figured someone should liven up this museum."
Dom ignored him. Just picked up his car keys without a word and walked to the door.
Allegra was already picking up her coat and bag. She paused just long enough to wink a goodbye at me before trailing after him.
***
Later that night, long after Aspen had passed out in front of the TV with an open packet of chips on his chest, I stayed by the kitchen window. I sat there pretending to check emails, but really just thinking. It was peaceful. It had the kind of quiet where you can hear your thoughts too clearly. And mine weren't flattering.
If I was being honest—which I rarely am, even with myself—I'd admit I have a bit of a Dom complex. Not envy, exactly. More like… irritation bundled up in admiration. The kind that festers when someone's too effortlessly composed.
He'd never say a word, but I knew he would have at least noticed the pattern: I'd sleep with people he trusted. Not to spite him. Not even to claim them. But maybe to prove I could. To remind myself I still mattered in a room he practically owned. From his assistants, advisors, security personnel. Allegra wasn't the first. She was just the smartest to have stuck around with me instead. That's after poking around my illicit dealings and seeing just how profitable they were.
Still, though, they all fell for him. Not sexually. Not like that. They fell into his orbit, a little similar to how those annoying girls fell into Eleanor's. You didn't need to be attracted to Dom to want to work for him. That was the part that got me.
He wasn't flashy. Hell, if you saw us walking side by side, you'd correctly assume I'm the one who ran things. There's no chance you'd miss that. At just over six-two, I was taller. My shoulders fill out a suit like I was born in one. People move when I walk in. They listen when I speak. But that was part of my charm—literally.
My charm wasn't just personality; it was my power. One that had mutated over time as we aged. As Dom noted years ago, it was a coping mechanism born from the deeper curse planted into us—the devil's seed. As mine would bloom into lust, my powers manifest into sensual allure, persuasion, and even the ability to read thoughts. Although never the full picture, I could read enough to nudge, tempt, or draw people in before they even knew why. It gave me the upper hand.
But Dom… Dom's presence isn't loud. It resembles still water, reminiscent of a calm lake in a sheltered area only few people have reached. But when you step into it, it seeps in. And it's hard to shake off, like water caught in the seams.
He stands at five-eleven, doesn't bother with anything that looks expensive. You'll remember him in cream cardigans. Never spent too much on haircuts, he always kept it slightly long and just tied it up. His smell was always faintly like he'd just stepped out of a library. His voice? Calm and measured, like he'd been rehearsing lines from books.
This was a man with porcelain skin, the kind that looked like it might bruise if you looked too hard. It was paired with pale ocean eyes that never fully give you anything back. You can't read Dom. You only get reflections.
Even the way he walks—unhurried, like time belonged to him. To sum it up: he looks like he doesn't try—because he doesn't have to.
Next to him, I sometimes feel like the louder version of a ghost. I was visible only because I was loud. All sharp edges and strategic charm. Commanding, sure, but only commanding by force. Dom didn't need to assert power. He just had it quietly.
Maybe that's why I hated the thought of him asking questions about Eleanor. Because if she ever got close enough to see past what I was... there was a chance she might see him instead. And now, I couldn't shake another thought: What if Dom smelled it too? That horrid, pungent garlic stench that made my every instinct scream retreat.
He wouldn't say anything, not directly. Dom wasn't the type to talk about things that disturbed him—he'd rather dissect them in silence. He never spoke in detail about anything until he was certain. Which meant… if he was investigating Eleanor, it might not just be because I'd taken a strange interest in her. It might be because he already noticed something.
If that were true, then I needed to find out what she was… before he did. Because if there was one thing worse than the devil's seed blooming inside me, it was the thought of Dom uncovering a truth I hadn't. And with Eleanor in the middle of all this, I wasn't about to let him claim the story first. Not this time.