Just Dominic and Naomi.
“Why did you come?” he asked.
“Because I wanted to see whether the man writing those notes existed when nobody was looking.”
Dominic accepted the blow.
“Fair.”
“And because I need you to understand something.”
“I’m listening.”
Naomi studied his face.
Months earlier he might have interrupted after three seconds.
Now he waited.
“I will never live here again as part of an agreement between families,” she said.
“I will never stand beside you simply because it makes your life easier.
I will not accept money as an apology.
I will not confuse security with love.
And if I ever feel myself disappearing again, I will leave again.”
Dominic’s expression tightened, but he did not argue.
“Understood.”
“That easily?”
“No,” he said.
“Not easily.
Just clearly.”
For the first time, Naomi smiled.
Only a little.
Dominic looked at that smile as though he had been handed something more valuable than any territory he had ever fought to control.
He did not reach for her.
He did not tell her she belonged there.
He asked, “What do you want now?”
Naomi glanced toward the library beyond the office.
“Coffee.”
Dominic blinked.
“Coffee?”
“And a conversation.”
“About us?”
“About me,” she said.
“You can learn about us later.”
Dominic almost laughed.
“All right.
About you.”
They moved to the library.
Naomi sat in the chair by the window.
Dominic took the chair opposite instead of the larger one behind the desk.
He asked about the worn paperback she had packed that night.
She told him why it mattered.
He asked about the silver locket.
She told him about her mother.
He asked what she hated about the mansion.
“The dining room,” she answered immediately.
That made him laugh for real.
“I hate it now too.”
“Good.
It’s terrible.”
They spoke until long after midnight.
Naomi did not promise to stay.
Dominic did not ask her to.
Eventually she stood and put on her coat.
He walked her to the door.
