Mirror

chapter 12

Sleeping wasn't an issue for me until Dom insisted on sleeping on the floor. I pushed him to sleep on the bed with me; it's big enough for the both of us. Yet somehow, I ended up waking up on top of him, with his hand up my shirt.

I could feel the warmth of his palm against my skin, sending a jolt of electricity through me despite the awkwardness of the situation.

"Veronica, what the hell?" His voice was low, a mix of surprise and something else I couldn't quite place.

I shifted uncomfortably, trying to disentangle myself from him. "I-I didn't mean to..." My words trailed off as I met his gaze, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my heart race.

He didn't move away, his hand lingering just a moment longer than necessary before he withdrew it, a faint flush spreading across his cheeks.

"It's fine," he muttered, his tone gruff as he tried to mask his own discomfort.

And as we sat there, the space between us filled with tension and unspoken words, I couldn't help but wonder if there was more to our relationship than just friendship.

The morning sun danced across the balcony as Dominic and I shared breakfast, the aroma of fresh fruit and pastries mingling with the salty breeze. He looked dashing as ever in his sleek black suit, his demeanor as enigmatic as always.

"I've got some work to attend to," he said, his voice low and smooth, with just a hint of urgency. "But I'll catch up with you later."

I nodded, offering him a small smile before he disappeared behind the door, leaving me alone on the balcony. With a sigh, I slipped into my swimsuit, the soft fabric clinging to my skin as I made my way to the pool.

The water glistened invitingly under the morning sun, beckoning me to dive in and escape the heat. I found a cozy spot by the edge of the pool, arranging my towel and cover-up before settling into the plush beach chair.

As I reclined, I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for neglecting my reading habits. Growing up, there was never time for fiction, always overshadowed by the demands of work and responsibility. But now, with the warm embrace of Costa Rica surrounding me, I finally had a chance to indulge.

As I lounge by the pool, the tropical sun warming my skin, I can't shake the feeling of Dominic's intense gaze on me. The way his eyes bore into mine sends shivers down my spine, and I can't help but wonder what thoughts are racing through his mind.

I try to focus on my book, but his presence is distracting, like a magnetic pull drawing me in. I steal a glance in his direction, catching the hard line of his jaw, the slight furrow of his brow. Is he angry? Jealous? Or is it something else entirely?

Suppressing a sigh, I pull my cover-up tighter around me, suddenly self-conscious under his scrutiny. But even as I try to distance myself, I can't deny the flutter of excitement in my chest at the thought of him watching me.

As Dominic introduces me to his business associates, I can't help but feel a surge of unease. His arm around my waist feels both protective and possessive, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Gentlemen, allow me to introduce Veronica Monroe," Dominic announces confidently, his voice cutting through the ambient noise of the resort. My heart races as all eyes turn to me, their scrutiny palpable even from a distance.

Hector Gonzalez, a distinguished man with a charming smile, speaks up first. "We were just talking about the beautiful woman across the pool," he says, his eyes twinkling with admiration. I offer a polite smile in response, my cheeks flushing slightly at the unexpected compliment.

"Amore, you remember Matteo and Nikolai," Dominic continues, his tone casual yet authoritative. Memories of our previous encounter with these men flicker through my mind, and I nod politely in acknowledgment.

But just as the introductions seem to be going smoothly, a random man interrupts with a rude tone, breaking the delicate facade of civility. "You are?" he demands, his gaze piercing through me with disdain.

"Veronica Monroe," I reply evenly, refusing to let his hostility shake me. I extend my hand in a gesture of courtesy, silently daring him to challenge my presence.

Dominic comes to my defense smoothly, his voice dripping with authority. "My fiancée," he declares, his words sending a jolt of surprise through me. I try to conceal my reaction, but the man's glare intensifies, casting a shadow over our supposed engagement.

Back in our room, I waste no time in confronting him. Pinning him against the door, I glare up at him, frustration boiling over. "What the hell?" I demand, my voice sharp with anger.

Dominic's apology is swift, but it does little to quell my irritation. "I'll go along with it for the week," I concede, my tone begrudging. "But you don't need to explain yourself. Just give me a warning next time."

He nods, contrition written across his features. "I'm sorry, boss," he murmurs, and despite my lingering annoyance, I can't help but soften slightly at the sight of his remorseful expression. "I'll make it up to you," he promises, and I can't suppress the flicker of curiosity that ignites within me at his words.

"You better," I retort, stepping back to give him some space. As he crosses the room, I can't shake the feeling that there's more to this situation than meets the eye. But for now, all I can do is wait and see what the week ahead has in store.
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Diary Entry 2:

Dear Diary,

I'm eight now, and I think something is wrong with my mom. She spends most of her time in bed, the curtains drawn tight. She doesn't talk much, and when she does, her voice is hollow. Dad says she's just tired, but I see the pills she takes. Lots of them.