Wicked Liar (Dark Syndicate 3) - Page 28

That’s why doing whatever I have to is worth it, even if I find nothing and I’m wrong.

I walk over to my closet to get the purse that matches the dress and my Prada heels.I've already packed what I need.Jacques sent over the address for his restaurant first thing this morning.It’s his five Michelin starred award-winning French restaurant in Bel Air.An obvious tactic to win me over, and a display of his wealth.The poor bastard wouldn’t realize that those things mean nothing to me.

My doorbell rings suddenly and I nearly jump out of my skin.A frown knits my brows and I pray that’s not him.He shouldn’t know my address, but he’s the kind of man who would pry in such a way.

Tossing my hair over my shoulder, I leave my room to answer the door.One look through the peephole and my back goes ramrod straight when I see Dominic standing on the other side.

He shouldn’t be able to see me, but he’s looking directly at the peephole like he can.

I step back and wait, watching the door like it can decide for me on whether or not I should let him in.

I can't believe I'm even asking myself such questions.

This is Dominic. A guy I still consider as the boy I loved.

Yes, I’m angry with him, but don’t I want to know what he has to say?

After all these years don’t I want to talk to him, and in the privacy of my own home?

I’ve always been in someone else’s home.This is mine, and we aren’t at the office with everybody watching us.

What am I afraid of?

More pain?

Something more to hurt me? Like… hearing what he might have gotten up to while he was away?

He’s Dominic D’Agostino and while Massimo and Tristan are the level-headed men they are now they never used to be like that, neither was he.A snap of a finger would send the entire female population running after them, any woman with eyes eager to be on their arm.

Do I truly think Dominic just focused on getting better while he was away and hadn’t been with a woman in two years?

Do I want to hear him say that?

When I really think about it wasn’t just him leaving that has me worked up.It’s all of it.

Growing up, it was always me watching him.It was always me trying to get him to notice me.I almost feel like the easy target because just before we got together, he seemed to only need me when he wanted something.Then there was always the matter of being the help.I had to endure watching him with one gorgeous woman after another.Models, socialites, anybody considered beautiful.Then there was just me. The weird girl with her cookies his father took pity on when she lost her parents.There was never a time when I felt like I was good enough to be with him.

In the run up to his departure, I suspected he was on drugs.I never said anything to anyone because I didn’t want to get it wrong or worse, allow myself to think that it was only the times when he was high off his face that he was interested in me.It made me feel foolish.

Too many minutes go by and I’m still frozen to the spot.

A sound that makes me think he’s pressed his hand against the door’s surface interrupts my thoughts.

It’s not until I see the tip of a piece of paper slide under the door that I move again.

At first, I think it’s another note.Then I see it’s not. It’s a little origami angel, like the ones he used to make me when I was the little girl who played with the boys in the meadow.

I lower to pick it up, and something softens in my heart as I look at it.

The last time he made one of these for me was when we first got together.Two years ago, we were in the usual danger and he was in trouble.I don’t even think he knew how badly the drugs had gotten to him.We were on Tristan’s island in the Bahamas.

Dominic made me an angel, then he kissed me.It was such a random act because we weren't doing anything but sitting in the kitchen talking.I was worried about him, and I think he could see it.He hadn't made one of those angels for me in many years.When he did and kissed me, it changed everything.

Remembering that kiss opens my heart to other memories of him making me little angels to calm me down when I had nightmares of my parents' deaths.Those were the first steps to bringing me back from the shadows.

It's those memories that make me open the door, meeting his uneasy gaze.We stare at each other for a few seconds, then he looks me over, taking in my hair, my dress, and my fully made-up face.

“You look good,” he says.

Tags: Faith Summers Dark Syndicate Dark
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