A Dominant Salvation (A Dominant Series Book 3)

by Lena Black

  “You’re a good son,” he says proudly, patting me on the back. “You’ll be a great father.”

  I look at him, my face wrought with anxiety.

  “I wonder that sometimes,” I confess. “What if I’m not enough?”

  He stares down at the floor with a distant gleam in his eyes and chuckles. “Your father asked me that exact question before you were born.”

  “And what did you tell him?”

  “All any parent can do is love their children and put their happiness first.” We stare at Olivia lying motionless in her hospital bed with Vivian at her side, petting the back of her hand and speaking softly to her. “You’ve done good, but your mother and I can handle the situation from here. You should go home to your wife and get some rest.”

  My wife. The thought gives me a warm, high feeling, like morphine spreading through my veins.

  I can’t want to get back to her, bury myself in her. I need the comfort only she brings me.

  “Will you let me know if anything changes?”

  “Of course.”

  He joins my mother bedside, wrapping a supportive arm around her back.

  This makes me long for Elle…My wife.

  Elle

  I don’t remember much after discovering Olivia in her apartment. I don’t remember Liam driving me to The Artemis. I don’t remember riding the elevator up to his floor. I don’t remember Jules taking me in and getting me a glass of whiskey. All I remember is a woman, bloody and beaten, lying on the floor grasping to life. The line between the present and the past haze until time ceases to be. That old familiar panic burns in my chest. Even though I would normally breakdown physically, I remain still, gazing mindlessly out into obscurity.

  I’m catatonic.

  I’m not sure how long I stay frozen like this, but I feel something beckoning me back into awareness.

  “I’m starting to worry about her,” Jules says, her hand softly coaxing me.

  “If she doesn’t get better soon, I’ll call Damian,” Liam assures her.

  “You never call him Damian,” I murmur, lethargically shifting my head to look at Liam standing behind Jules.

  “Ellie, are you alright?”

  “You should’ve seen her,” I mutter, holding my glass to my chest.

  “You shouldn’t be thinking about it, love,” Jules says, rubbing my shoulder.

  “It’s not a scene you just stop thinking about. It’s burned in my brain. I know Olivia was a wretch, but she didn’t deserve to be beaten half to death.” I realize it’s night time now, but I don’t know how late it is. “What time is it?” I ask.

  “It’s around eight,” Liam answers me.

  “Where’s Damian?”

  “He hasn’t come back yet.”

  “Good,” I answer, tossing the blanket over my shoulders and standing up.

  “What are you doing?” Liam asks.

  “I want to be upstairs by the time Damian arrives home.”

  “Mr. Hunt instructed me to keep you down here with me until he sends for you.”

  “Please, Liam, don’t start with this. I mean, honestly, what is he going to do to you if I go home early, murder you?” I chuckle to myself, but Liam doesn’t even crack a hint of a smile. “It was a joke, Banks. I’ll be fine.” I open the door and take a step out before turning back to him. “If Damian comes here first, tell him where I am.”

  Once I’m in the penthouse, I head upstairs and into our bedroom, stripping down for a long, relieving soak. I hit bath on the touchpad screen, the sunken tub beginning to fill with steaming water, and pin up my hair to keep it dry. With a groan, I dip my right foot into the water and then the other, sinking gradually into its satisfying heat.

  “I’ll never get enough of that body,” Damian says from behind me, startling me. He’s leaning on the frame of our bedroom door, his emerald eyes dull and fatigued.

  “Slick,” I murmur with a saddened quiver.

  “Don’t. I just want to get into that bath with you right now and forget.”

  “I want that too,” I agree, knowing how devastated he must be, knowing my body is his sanctuary. He undresses and joins me in the warmth of the bath, bringing me into him and kissing me deep. His hands cling to all the right curves, the small of my back, the round of my ass, gripping the cheeks and grinding me into him. As AMAZING as this all feels, I push myself away.

  “How about I wash you? Pamper you?”

  His confused scowl morphs into a lop-sided smile when he realizes my intentions.

  “Alright, angel. I’ll let you take care of me tonight.”

  I sit back on the seat and invite him to cradle himself between my legs. He dunks himself under water, getting his chocolate hair wet, and then turns his back to me, sitting between my thighs. I pick up the body wash and squirt it in my hands, placing them on his shoulders and kneading his hard muscles.

  He moans a deep, husky moan, his head falling back. I work down his shoulders, his back, his arms, feeling him relax under my touch.

  “Feeling better?”

  “God, yes. This is perfect.”

  “Do you want to talk about today?”

  “Elle…” He clasps my hand resting on his bicep.

  “Damian, I want to help you,” I clutch his arm, “with more than my body. Let me in.”

  “I saw the way you looked when we found her, Elle. It was as if you were watching yourself. I don’t want to put you through that terrible memory again.”

  “You won’t.” I rub his back reassuringly. “I promise.”

  “She died in my arms, as I was carrying her into the hospital. They revived her, examined her, drugged her. They said there was swelling of the brain, no internal bleeding, a few broken ribs, and a fracture in her pelvic bone. She’s barely hanging on, but she is. If I can say one thing about Liv, she’s tough.”

  “As nails,” I agree, giving his shoulder a supportive squeeze.

  He places his hand over mine, pulling me around and sitting me on his lap.

  “Do you want to know what I thought about when I was holding her bloodied, limp body in my arms?”

  I reach up, cupping his jaw in my hands. “I always want to know what you’re thinking.”

  “I kept thinking of you, picturing you the way you looked after Nicholas...Chase holding you in his arms, panicked, rushing to get you help.” He shuts his eyes and takes a big gulp, swallowing down the pain. “I know I can’t control the past, but I wish I could take the memory of it away, so neither of us would ever have to feel the pain we’ve both felt.”

  “As terrible as it all was, Damian, it’s what made us strong enough to handle everything that’s happened since. I think if we didn’t experience its hardship, we’d crumble now. We’re survivors, Damian, not victims.”

  He places his forehead against my lips, his eyes shut tightly. He lets out a shaky breath. I know he’s fighting back his emotions. He always tries to be a rock for me, but under the weight of time, even rocks can crumble. It’s only a matter of time.

  “You’re so much stronger than I am,” he murmurs.

  My heart melts into a puddle of emotion. Here, my husband, my pillar of strength, my protector, revealing the kinks in his armor.

  Knowing how it calms him, I comb my fingers through his hair, kissing him across his face.

  “I want to be your strength, Damian.” My lips hover over his now. “I want to be your salvation.”

  He exhales the breath he’s been holding into my mouth, breathing life into my lungs. He is the air in my lungs and the blood in my veins. He is my entire existence, and I’m desperately happy to give it all to him.

  Saying the words I didn’t know I needed to hear, “I’ll love you until the end of eternity,” I take his mouth onto mine, lifting myself onto the tip of his swollen head.

  I let him take refuge in my body, harboring him in the depths of my womb.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Kill the Messenger

  Weeks have pa
ssed since my encounter with Dante and the incident with Olivia. The gravity of the situation has had time to settle. Dante has grown restless, and he’s ready to strike. Damian has been on high alert.

  I’m hanging in the main room of the penthouse, drinking a glass of pinot and reading a book when my cells rings. My eyes widen when Olivia’s name and number appear on the screen. I’m surprised she even has mine anymore. I pick up, my voice hesitant. “Hello?”

  “Gabrielle. It’s Olivia.”

  “Yeah, I know. What do you want?” I ask, suspicious of her intentions for this out-of-the-blue call.

  “I know I’m the last person you want to hear from, but I need to speak to you, in person. I was hoping you’d come over to my apartment since I’m unable to travel in my condition.”

  Damian had sent two men to watch over her and her apartment until the situation with Dante has been resolved, so if they’re there, I don’t see the harm.

  “I’ll be over in twenty.”

  I hang up with her and dial Liam’s number. I’m not going in this alone and vulnerable.

  Twenty-two minutes later, Liam parks at the curb in front of her building.

  “I don’t like this,” he says. “It could be a trap.”

  “Unlikely. Two hired guards are stationed at her door twenty-four hours a day. If anything happens, they will be at my side instantly. Plus, I have you on speed dial. If you see my number, you haul ass upstairs.”

  “I still think we should have told Damian about this.”

  “Aw, Liam, you called him Damian.”

  “Yeah, don’t tell him. He’ll fire me. Well, if he doesn’t kill me over this first.”

  “He won’t find out about this. I promise.” I grab my purse and open the back passenger side door. “I won’t be more than fifteen minutes.”

  “If you are, I’m coming up whether you want me to or not,” he informs me.

  I shut the door and enter the chic apartment building, taking the elevator to the top floor where two very intimidating men stand in front of the door. I walk up to them and announce my name. They step aside and allow me to knock.

  “Come in,” her voice comes from the other side. “It’s open.”

  I turn the handle and walk in, pausing after a step or two. She’s on the couch, a laptop sitting on her outstretched legs. Her face still shows signs of the attack, a fading black eye, the gash across her lips diminishing in depth and length. Even in her state, she looks beautiful and demure.

  “Please, come in.” She sets the computer on the table and adjusts herself, her movements weak and labored. I shut the door behind me and move further into the living room. With a sweep of her hand, she gestures for me to take a seat. I choose a chair on the other side of the glass coffee table. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Thank you. No. I wasn’t planning to be here long.”

  We stare at one another for an awkward period of time, neither sure of what the other’s thinking.

  “I look hideous, I know. But many would say I got what was coming to me.”

  “You had your faults, but don’t deserve to be beaten within an inch of your life, Olivia. How are you coping?”

  “I’m taking it one day at a time.” She sits herself up, wincing at the pain. “I decided not to take the pills the doctors prescribed, so I’m going at the emotional and physical pain head on.”

  “You always were a stubborn bitch,” I observe.

  She chuckles, pressing her hand to her ribs when her body jerks. “True.” Her face falls, suddenly rife with remorse. “I suppose Damian told you everything.”

  “He has.”

  I remain stiff, the odd energy in the room keeping me from relaxing even a sliver.

  “Then you know I’m sorry for what I’ve done to you both.”

  “If that’s why you asked me here, it’s not necessary, Olivia. I never cared what you did to me, only Hunt. As long as he made peace, I have no qualm with you.”

  “That’s not why I asked you here.”

  “Then why am I here? Let’s call a spade a spade, Olivia. We’ve never been coy about things. No point starting now.”

  “You’re right.” She points to the table where a manila envelope crookedly lies. “I received that in my mail this morning. Inside, there was a USB drive with a note explicitly directing me to give it to you. It was signed by Dante.” I snatch the envelope and turn it upside down, the small plastic device dropping into my palm.

  “Did the note say anything else?” I probe, desperate to get my hands on any information possible.

  “Read for yourself.” She reaches over and hands me a piece of paper. I take it and read through the rantings of a man gone mad. He says he’s done waiting for the truth to be known about Damian’s demons, and for me to realize I should be with him. Nausea washes over me, the kind you experience when you haven’t eaten all day. It starts in your gut and rolls up into your throat. I place my hand over my mouth in case I actually get sick.

  “I already know his demons,”

  “Do you?”

  The entire drive home, I stare down at my fisted hand, the drive securely tucked inside, wondering what secrets the tiny bit of plastic keeps. Liam kept glimpsing back at me. I didn’t speak a word to him when I climbed back into the Rover and took my usual seat in the back. Every time I caught him watching me, I saw the tension in his eyes, the corners wrinkled with curiosity. But it’s my turn to keep this from them.

  I arrive home, set my purse down on the couch in the main room, and kick off my shoes. The sky opened up on the drive, lightning and thunder ripping through the clouds, lending to the gloom of the day. I turn on the fireplace and walk into the kitchen, needing a stiff drink. I think a twenty-year-old Scotch will pair nicely with my misery. I set the drive on the counter in the kitchen and pour myself a two-fingered serving. I sip on my drink as I pace back and forth, burning a hole into the tiny piece of plastic with my eyes. A part of me is dying to know what’s on it. Another part of me is terrified I won’t be able to unlearn whatever I discover.

  Don’t be a bitch, Elle.

  Grabbing the USB off the counter, I take it to the entertainment room on the first floor and sit behind the desk, booting the computer. I plug the drive into the tower and open the tab when the option pops onto the screen. The only file on the device is an MP3 named PLAY ME. My finger hovers over the mouse. I know I shouldn’t, but I double click. The media player opens and the recording plays.

  A voice comes through the speakers.

  It’s Hunt.

  “She’d leave me if she knew the truth,” he says, his voice raw and burdened with grief.

  “You don’t know that,” another male voice responds.

  Chase?

  “How could she not? I’ve lied to her. If she finds out I knew who she was when we met, she’d never forgive me.”

  What?

  My heart sinks to my feet, and my throat swells as I listen to the recording in horror and try to suppress my cries.

  I feel betrayed, betrayed by him, by his secrets, by his lies. Suddenly, our story reads differently. It wasn’t fate. It was all part of some plan. It’s a lie. We’re a lie.

  I leap from my chair and bolt for the second floor, walking into Damian’s office where he furiously types away at his laptop, his eyes focused intensely on the screen.

  “Did you know who I was?”

  His head tilts upward, his brow knitted inquisitively. “What are you talking about, Elle?”

  “When we met, did you already know who I was?”

  His silence speaks volumes.

  “Was the night we met planned?”

  “These aren’t simple yes or no questions, Gabrielle.”

  “Oh my God,” I cry, clasping my hands over my face. “It’s true. You knew who I was. You played me.”

  “I would never play you. Yes, I knew who you were. But the night we met was not planned. It was fate.”

  “But you knew I worked at View whe
n you bought it.”

  “Yes.” He stands and takes a step toward me, but stops.

  “Why would you keep this from me, Damian?”

  “I had my reasons.”

  “Unacceptable!” I shout.

  He stares at me, taken aback.

  “I was going to tell you, Elle.”

  “Bullshit.” I cross my arms and glare at him. “This is unacceptable, Damian. I am sick and fucking tired of the lies.”

  He sets his hands over his face and then runs them back through his hair. “I just want to protect you.”

  “Do you really expect me to believe you hid this from me to keep me safe? You did it for you!”

  I turn on my heels and storm out of the room.

  “Where are you going now?”

  “None of your business,” I call back to him, “and don’t follow me!”

  I can’t be near him right now. All the deceit and sneaking around. It’s just too much for me to deal with. I grab my bag from the couch and head down to Scarlett in the underground parking. I slide in, turn the key, and press the red start button on the steering wheel, bringing Scar to life. I click my seatbelt into the lock and put the car in reverse, backing out of my space and driving out of the garage in record time. I turn onto the street and come to a stop at the red light, using the opportunity to call my sister. I hit her number on speed dial. As her phone rings, the passenger door opens, and the cold bite of metal presses into my cheek.

  “Hang up the phone.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Dante’s Inferno

  Dante.

  Without needing to confirm, I’d bet my life on it, and that seems to be the case. Dante’s voice sends a bigger chill down my spine than the frosty sting of the gun shoved into the side of my face. I hit a button on the phone, pretending to end the call but mute the speaker volume instead, and toss it on the floor.

  “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.” I attempt to appease him with a shaky voice, my whole body tingling from the adrenaline coursing through my system.

  “Oh, Gabrielle, I’ve done far too much to agonize over regret now,” he states in an eerily calm tone.