As the elevator ascends, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirrored walls. The pink mini dress, the off-the-shoulder sleeves tied into a giant bow, the matching Valentinos-this ensemble screams farewell, but all I feel is relief. Relief that this is finally over, that I can leave behind the meaningless conversations, the fake tears, the insincere well wishes.
As I step out, the cacophony of voices washes over me, meaningless chatter and hollow well-wishes filling the air. My coworkers, my clients-they're all here, eager to bid me adieu. But beneath their smiles lies a palpable sense of relief, as if they're glad to see the back of me.
A familiar scent interrupts my thoughts. "Mr. Moretti," I acknowledge without looking up, knowing he's towering over me in his usual black suit.
"Now you want to introduce formality," I remark, a hint of bitterness seeping into my tone.
"Thank you for today," he offers, a rare moment of sincerity.
"Just doing my job," I reply dismissively, unable to shake off the tension between us.
He chuckles softly, and I can't help but wonder what's behind that smirk. "I guess you're right."
As my father takes the stage for my farewell speech, his words drip with bitterness. "We're all here to bid farewell to an amazing lawyer," he begins, his tone laced with sarcasm. "Veronica Monroe," he adds, and the crowd erupts in laughter. "Goodbye, Veronica, and good riddance," he concludes, his words a final jab.
Once the attention shifts away, I retreat to my office, now barren of the clutter that once consumed it. My father-no, Herman-is already a fading memory as I pack up the last of my belongings. It's a relief to finally be free of this place, free of his shadow.
A knock interrupts my thoughts, and I'm surprised to see Dominic standing at the door. "Figured I could use the company?" he says, his presence both comforting and unsettling.
"What now?" he asks, his gaze piercing through me.
"Start living, I guess," I reply, my voice tinged with uncertainty. "I just don't know where to start."
"I have a few ideas," he says, extending his hand. "Do you trust me?"
I hesitate for a moment, weighing the risks and the possibilities. But what do I have to lose? With a sigh, I take his hand, allowing him to lead me out of the office and into the unknown.
We arrive at a club, and I can't help but raise an eyebrow at his choice of venue. "You brought me to a club?" I question, skepticism evident in my voice.
He shrugs nonchalantly. "You need to live, remember?"
Inside, the music is deafening, the lights blinding. Dominic leads me through the crowd with ease, his hand firmly clasped in mine. We skip the line, bypassing the throngs of people clamoring to get inside.
As we make our way to the bar, Dominic orders tequila shots, and I can't help but raise an eyebrow. "Are you sure about this?" I ask, my apprehension growing with each passing second.
He nods, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I don't want us to get drunk," he reassures me, though his smirk suggests otherwise.
We down the shots in quick succession, the burn of the alcohol searing through me. But as the music pulses around us, I find myself letting go, losing myself in the rhythm of the dance floor.
"Do you want to dance?" I ask him, my voice barely audible over the music.
He nods eagerly, pulling me onto the dance floor with him. We move together in perfect synchrony, our bodies swaying to the beat of the music. And for the first time in a long time, I feel truly alive.
But amidst the chaos of the club, I catch sight of a familiar figure watching us from the VIP section. Dominic follows my gaze, a knowing smile playing on his lips.
"I have someone I want you to meet," he says, leading me toward the mysterious duo.
As we approach, Dominic introduces me to Matteo Bianchi and Nikolai Sokolov, though the latter seems less than thrilled to see me. I take my seat between Dominic and Matteo, but before I can protest, Dominic pulls me into his lap, his touch sending shivers down my spine.
"I'm sorry, boss," he whispers in my ear, his breath hot against my skin. "The couch is dirty. Please bear with it for a second."
I shoot him a glare, but he only grins in response, turning his attention back to Matteo and Nikolai. I'm torn between annoyance and amusement, but as Dominic's hand trails up my thigh, I can't deny the spark of excitement that courses through me.
Sitting on Dominic's lap, I can't help but feel a flutter of excitement mixed with discomfort. I tug on his sleeve, trying to catch his attention without interrupting his conversation too much. When his dark eyes finally meet mine, I straighten up, feeling a rush of adrenaline at the thought of what's to come.
"What's up, boss?" he asks, his voice low and gravelly.
"I'm going to dance," I declare, my tone firm but laced with a hint of mischief.
He nods, releasing me from his grasp, and I make my way downstairs, acutely aware of his gaze following me.
At the bar, I order a drink and sip it slowly, relishing the freedom retirement has brought. I've been told I have a resting bitch face, but tonight, I'm determined to let loose and enjoy myself.
As I survey the room, my eyes land on the nearest man. With newfound confidence, I approach him, paying for his drink before extending an invitation.
Do you want to dance?" I ask, my voice tinged with anticipation.
He gives me a once-over, his gaze lingering on my figure before agreeing. Together, we make our way to the dance floor, but even as we move to the music, I can't shake the feeling of Dominic's eyes on me.
The song ends, and I turn to find Dominic towering over me, his presence magnetic and commanding. I feel a rush of exhilaration at the sight of him, but I refuse to let it
The night stretches on, a blur of music and laughter and stolen glances. And as the club begins to empty out, Dominic leans in close, his lips brushing against my ear.
"Are you ready to go?" he asks, his voice low and husky.
I hesitate for a moment, the gravity of his words sinking in. But then I nod, a thrill of anticipation coursing through me as he leads me out into the night. With Dominic by my side, I'm ready for whatever comes next.
____
Diary Entry 1
Dear Diary,
I was adopted today. I'm six years old and everything is new and scary. My new mom and dad took me to a big house. It's beautiful, with high ceilings and fancy furniture. But it feels cold, not like a home. They smiled at me a lot, but their eyes looked sad.
YOU ARE READING
Mirror
RomanceHis eyes lock onto mine, and for a moment, the world seems to stop. He pulls us both up, his grip strong and sure. His face is so close, his gaze studying mine with an intensity that makes my knees weak. Before I can overthink it, I lean up and plac...
