Chapter 172
Her fingers rest lightly on my arm, not possessive, just supportive. A comforting touch.
“I’m only telling you because I care,” she continues softly. “You’ve already had so much pressure on you. The investigation. The transition of power. I would hate for unnecessary rumors to damage you.”
“I’m worried,” she says quietly, her eyes lifting to mine. “Maybe there’s a reason the fights happen before she disappears. Maybe she needed an excuse. Maybe she already had plans.”
I wish the suggestion hadn’t landed.
Did she go to him? Plan her escape? Pretend to be pissed to go see him? It would explain her rage.
I straighten slowly, forcing the thought back into a place.
“Thank you,” I say evenly. “But I will handle my business with my wife.”.
Vivian’s expression warms immediately, as if relieved I am taking control. “Of course you will,” she says sweetly. “1 only want
what’s best for you.”
Her hand slips away from my arm.
Her smile lingers a second longer than necessary before I turn away.
I find Ellie near the side hallway, staring at floral sketches. An empty pizza box sits in the trash.
“Walk with me,” I say, catching her wrist before she slips away.
“Ah! What is wrong with you? If this is about cake, I voted for the affordable one.”
“It’s not about cake.”
She squints at me. “That’s suspicious. This entire building is obsessed with cake.”
I don’t smile.
She sighs. “Great. That face.”
I guide her into a quieter alcove. She crosses her arms instantly.
“What?”
“Did you intend to meet Lucas earlier?”
She blinks. Then laughs. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not.”
“I wanted pizza,” she says. “Where did you even get that idea?”
“Just a feeling. You seem… miserable today.”
“Unlike Vivian?” she snaps. “Dominic, I don’t like this. I’m fine with cheap. I’m trying. If you want someone enthusiastic about this wedding, marry her.”
I don’t want Vivian. I want to snap. But I bite my tongue.
“Just answer the question.”
“About Lucas? He was there. That’s it. If I were sneaking around, do you really think I’d choose somewhere you could follow?”
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“No, but-”
“Why are you pushing this? It feels like you’ve already decided I’m the problem.”
“I only asked if you planned to meet him.”
“And if I did? Would that make it easier to replace me?”
My jaw tightens. “Ellie. She’s not taking your place.”
“She already is.”
“That’s not true.”
“She knows the pack. She knows the events. Everyone… likes what she picks. Mine are never enough—”
“I chose you,” I say, louder than I mean to.
I step in and take her hand before she can pull away. “I care what you choose. I care if you’re happy.”
She goes silent for a minute. Then stares at our hands.
“Let go.”
“No.”
“Dominic-”
“I want this,” I cut in again. “This deal. All of it. But I’m not apologizing for caring. For asking if you love someone else. Or if you just enjoy hating me.”
Silence stretches.
“I don’t hate you,” she says, slower now.
“Good. That would be inconvenient.”
“Stop joking.”
“I’m not.”
The noise of the tasting drifts down the hall. Laughter. Silverware.
don’t
“I chose you,” I say again, quieter. “Not Vivian. You. So stop telling me I don’t.’
She searches my face, but finds nothing to fight.
“I… didn’t plan to meet Lucas,” she finally mutters. “I ran into him. That’s it.”
“Alright,” I say. “I appreciate the clarity. I didn’t like the idea of you running to someone else after we fight.”
“We weren’t fighting.”
“We were.”
She exhales. “Semantics.”
“If you’re going to hate this wedding,” I say, “hate it with me. Not against me.”
She stares at me like she doesn’t know what to do with that. Hell, I don’t either. But I can prove it.
I turn back toward the tasting and snap for the planner.
“Which one was cheapest?”
“Chocolate, sir.”
“Then chocolate.”
My mother gasps: Vivian freezes mid-presentation. The chef looks relieved.
Behind me, I can feel Ellie watching. Smiling.
If she thinks this is a game, she’s wrong.
I don’t start things halfway.
And I don’t walk away from them either.
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