The punch wasn't clean, but it landed. Dom's head snapped to the side. Not hard enough to do real damage, but enough to sting I had hoped so.
I lowered my gloves just enough to smirk. "Did that rattle something loose, Professor?"
He didn't answer, just rolled his jaw once and reset his stance.
We'd been circling each other for ten minutes, throwing half-committed jabs and exchanging footwork like we weren't both distracted. I wasn't focused on technique, balance, or proper breathing. I was thinking about Eleanor. And more importantly, I was thinking about Dom thinking about Eleanor.
He dodged my next hook easily, stepping to the side with that same annoying grace he applied to everything. His form was tighter than usual, like he'd already moved on from this moment and had somewhere more important to be.
He did, actually. He was on his way to the library for research. The usual excuse.
How had I convinced him to spar with me? I booked the gym for two days—paid in cash, under an alias. It's no surprise no one asked questions, they never did when the bills were crisp.
The gym wasn't fancy. No LED lighting or chrome finishes. The lockers were rusted, mat visibly faded. But it had what we needed: isolation. Reinforced walls. No security cameras. And most importantly, no humans. We couldn't spar like this around people. Not with what we were.
I threw another jab, but missed. "So," I said, breath heavy, "how's Allegra?"
Dom's shoulders didn't tense, but I saw the flicker of awareness in his eyes. "She's fine," he said.
"She's been busy lately," I went on, "And not with me. Are you borrowing her again?"
"You know she still works with me from time to time," he replied evenly. "When I need her."
"What exactly are you using her for?"
Dom shifted his stance, controlled as always. "Some background work. A few missing person reports."
"Any reason they're on your radar?"
"One of the girls is connected to a professor I work closely with in Golden Cross. I told them I'd help where I could."
I kept my tone casual. "Were there signs before they went missing? Anyone following them, maybe?"
He didn't answer right away. Then: "Yeah. A few reports like that came up—people being watched, followed. But nothing consistent. Could be different people, or none of it could be connected. Hard to say yet."
He glanced at me. "Why? You hear something? Rumors?"
I shook my head. "Just wondering how far Allegra's involved. Want to make sure she's safe."
Dom didn't respond immediately. Just gave the smallest of nods. I narrowed my eyes and swung low, forcing him to sidestep.
"She reports to me now," I said, less casual this time. "Full-time. If you need something from her, it comes through me. I shouldn't have to ask first."
He countered with a quick jab to my shoulder. "Why are we even having this conversation? I asked back in New York. You said yes."
I circled him. "I said yes because I thought it only had to do with the move-in. If it's other matters, I'd like to know what kind of risk we're authorising. Also, you know how we're gearing up for another expansion. It's been hectic business-wise."
Dom didn't blink. "She's a very competent aide. She's been managing all that while doing the extra work. Besides, she's just paying back a favor."
"Is that what you call it?" I muttered.
Another strike. He blocked it, caught my wrist, and twisted it. I broke free with a grunt.
"She's not your personal assistant anymore," I added. "If there's something you're looking into—especially something near our turf—I'd appreciate knowing."
Dom raised an eyebrow. "You sound paranoid."
"I sound like someone trying to keep their house in order."
"Then maybe stop punching into thin air," he said, stepping back.
I held my stance, breath sharp. He was baiting me, or maybe testing to see if I'd bite. I didn't. Not yet. We kept circling. Until the thought slipped back in—the man watching Eleanor. The photos. The scent. And then Dom, just there with her. Unreadable as always.
I swung again—harder this time. He caught the punch, and knocked me off balance with a sweep so clean it pissed me off. My back hit the mat with a dull thud.
For a good minute, I just stared at the ceiling, chest heaving.
Ah, it was always like this. Me on my back, Dom standing tall. Always one step ahead no matter how hard I trained or how sharp I played it. It burned in places I didn't know had nerves.
Dom offered a hand, but I ignored it and rolled up on my own.
"I need to head off to the library now," he said mildly, already peeling off his gloves. "Stop being so distracted, Christoph. That's why you're losing."
"No, Dominus," I muttered. "I'm losing because you got lucky."
He gave me a look. Not mocking or smug. Just that unreadable stillness I hated.
"Sure," he said, and turned for the door.
I stood there, flexing my hand. My knuckles ached. My pride did more.
He was getting too close. I could feel it. That scene at the fountain—her asking about me, but him answering for both of us—it hadn't left my head. He knew something. Or was getting there fast. And if Dom got to the truth about Eleanor before I did… No. I wasn't going to let Dom get there first.
I pulled off my gloves and sat on the edge of the bench, jaw clenched, mind racing. I couldn't go through Allegra. Dom already had Allegra and her entire network combing through God knows what already. But I couldn't use them even if he hadn't. Not since Eleanor. Not since I'd started keeping things to myself.
With the mental load feeling heavier than my body even after that workout, I figured I needed air. So I didn't bother driving, and walked instead. Just shoved my hands in my pockets and took the long way back to the apartment.