Chapter 96

Returning to the office felt like stepping onto a battlefield still smoldering from the last war. The office seemed the same at first glance. The window and all that were in the same place, but the subtle hum of energy felt different. There was something beneath the usual bustle, like the soul of the place had shifted while I was gone.

It wasn't until I was walking down the hall towards the room I usually worked in that I realized what it was.

Too many desks were empty.

Too many familiar names no longer had nameplates outside their offices.

The aftermath of the first court days had hit harder than I expected. Between internal audits, forced resignations, and Arielle's legal demolition team dragging skeletons into the light, the office had been practically gutted. I wondered how much farther that went.

I hadn't texted with Dominic for long after he'd messaged me. He had just been checking on me, wanting to hear from me. Planning our first real date after the court case or something.

It made me grin and all I could think about was catching up.

I threw myself at the mountain of tasks waiting on my desk like it might save me from imagining what the rest of the court case would be like. There were a lot of reports to file. Accounts to reconcile. Emails to respond to. Case summaries. Review forms. Inventory gaps. Employee logs and all that to go over for the client companies. I welcomed it becase sitting still felt like I was asking for trouble.

Especially with people whispering about how I was getting special treatment.

"I guess we can expect a different kind of Vivian."

"At least she's nicer…"

I grimaced at that thought and worked. And when that wasn’t enough, I kept working. It didn’t matter that it was already late, and most of the lights on our floor had shut off hours ago. I sat curled up in my office chair with a throw blanket over my shoulders and the heel of my palm pressed to my eyes as I reviewed another client folder.

My body was begging me to stop, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. The energy wouldn't leave my mind. My thoughts weren't settled, just held aside for now and that was the worst.

I didn’t want to give anyone more fuel to say I didn’t belong here that I only got to come back because of who I was. I didn’t want anyone to think I needed special treatment. That I couldn’t handle it.

So I stayed.

I stayed even after my vision blurred.

Even after my fingers slipped on the keyboard, and I accidentally deleted half a file, I was pretty sure. I really hoped not. Even after the floor felt like it swayed beneath me when I stood to stretch.

And eventually, I fell asleep at my desk, arms crossed and head cradled in the nook of them, breathing slow and steady until the world faded out.

I didn't dream which was nice. It felt like time passed around me, but how much, I had no idea.

I woke up somewhere else.

The cot beneath me was firm but warm. My coat had been draped over me like a blanket, and the faint smell of cedar and cologne hung in the air.

It was Dominic’s cologne.

I blinked blearily and sat up slowly, my neck aching from the angle I’d been laying in. The small cot had been set up near the window, and sunlight filtered in just enough to tell me it was morning. My shoes had been taken off. A bottle of water sat on the side table next to a protein bar.

And Dominic was sitting across from me in the armchair near his desk, wearing his usual dark slacks and a pressed button-up, sleeves rolled up just past his elbows. His tie hung loose around his neck, and he looked tired, but not in the same bone-deep way I felt. His tiredness had purpose. Control.

“How long was I out?” I rasped.

“About six hours.” He set the report in his hands aside. “I found you in the office when I came in. You were slumped over the keyboard.”

Mortification hit like a slap to the face. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” he said, voice even but firm. “Which is why we need to talk about this.”

I sat up straighter on the cot, pushing my hair back from my face. “Dominic, I can explain—”

“Renee.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You’re not allowed to spend the night in the office anymore.”

My stomach dropped. “What? That’s not fair. I’m behind. I’m just trying to catch up—”

“I’m not debating this,” he said. “You’re not allowed to work yourself to collapse. That’s not a badge of honor. That’s a liability.”

“I’m not.”

He held up a hand, cutting me off. “I’m already drafting a formal company policy. Interns will no longer be permitted to pull overtime, nor will they be allowed to be in the building unsupervised after standard hours.”

“Dominic, that’s going to make it harder for me. I don't want anyone thinking it's special treatment. Interns always get the short end of the stick.”

“No. It’s going to make it safer for you. And not in my companies they don't.”

The frustration in his voice wasn’t cold. It was something sharper. Protective. But I hated the way it felt like I was being boxed in, even if I understood why.

“I’m not asking for special treatment,” I said, voice low.

He stood, stepping closer. “You’re not getting special treatment, Renee. You’re getting humane treatment. And I don’t care what anyone else whispers about it. I care that you’re alive enough to keep being brilliant without burning out before you’re thirty.”

The words caught me off guard.

I looked up at him, heart thudding in my chest. He wasn’t looking at me like a supervisor or a guardian. He was looking at me like a man who cared about me and I didn’t quite know what to do with it.

“I can’t afford to fall behind again,” I said softly.

“You won’t,” he promised, crouching down in front of me so we were level. “We’ll make sure you don’t. But you’re going to do it while sleeping in a real bed and eating actual meals. As far as I understand it, you shouldn't be working on that project anyway.”

My throat felt tight. “You make it sound so easy.”

“I know it’s not.” He hesitated, gaze flicking down to my hands. “But I’m trying to make it possible.”

I nodded. She stood and came over to sit beside me. He takes my hand.

"Renee," he said gently. "You're not getting special treatment. And even if you were--"

"I--"

"You have every reason to, Ms. Mountainhowl."

My lips twitched. "That's…well…"

He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. "You'll get used to it."

I looked up at him. "I don't think so."

He smiled and leaned close, whispering. "You will. How else do you expect me to treat you?"

Something electric sparked in the air, in me. I could barely breath around it. My lungs are burning. My blood hums with something that's not just nerves. I want…

Was that my heart pounding? The mark on my chest felt like it was burning and reaching. I looked up at him. The air went up out of the room. His eyes were so dark, drawing me in. He leaned closer.

"You should call Arielle and---"

I leaned forward, pressing our lips together. My stomach jolted. He groaned into my mouth, tilting his head just enough to kiss back. I wanted more of it. His tongue slipped between my lips, tasting, taking over like he'd barely been holding back. I shivered, melting into the kiss.

He was about to pull me into his lap then my phone rang.

We broke apart. I gasped, staring at my jacket. I fumbled for it in my jacket pocket, flinching when I saw the name flash across the screen.

Arielle.

I picked up. “Hey, I—”

“Come home,” she said, her tone sharper than usual. “We have prep work to do, and I’m not about to let you show up to court with brain fog and mascara smudges.”

“I’m not even wearing—”

“Tragedy. We'll change that. Come home. Thirty minutes.” She hung up before I could respond.

Dominic raised an eyebrow. “Arielle?”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “She wants me home for legal prep. Sounds… irritated.”

I grimaced. "She's… never sounded like that… Not with me."

"It must be serious. I'm sure she's not upset with you."

“She always sounds irritated.”

He cupped my jaw and turned me back before kissing me gently. Dominic helped me put my shoes on and gather my things. He placed the bottle of water and protein bar in my hands, and walked me down looking absolutely unbothered save for the darkness in his eyes.