Dominic's POV
“Hannah’s useless now,” I said, savoring the words. “Paralyzed. She can’t run. She can’t ruin things.”
Katerina clinked her glass against mine. “Finally. We can breathe. No more lies. No more secrets in the dark.”We sat close, shoulders touching. The cruise hummed with music and smiling couples. Nobody knew what we’d done. Nobody needed to know.
“We’ll make it official soon,” I said. “Adoption first. Make Jacob mine on paper. Then the wedding. People will bow.” I watched her eyes. She wanted the ring. She deserved it.
Katerina smiled. “And your father? Your family?” she asked.
I shrugged. “I already fed them what they needed. I sent Dante the folder—proof of Hannah’s affair. When they see it, they’ll be disgusted. Her father will be ashamed; he’ll hand over his shares as compensation. My parents will agree to divorce. Everything shifts to us.”
She nodded, pleased. “And Hannah?”
I leaned back, relaxed. “What do you think? We can keep her. She’s broken. She can’t speak up. She can’t walk away. We’ll control the narrative.” I watched the tiny flush on her cheeks. “I’m not a killer, Katerina. We don’t need blood. A body that obeys is better than a corpse. She still has her mind. Useful when it comes to business.”
She chuckled, sly. “We could make her eat something disgusting on camera just to humiliate her. Keep her small. Make her like a pet.”
We laughed together. The sound felt like victory.
We didn’t see the shadow near the railing—someone cloaked in darkness, phone out, recording every word. The shadow swallowed our laughter and the ocean’s steady slap and saved it all.
The next morning, my father, Dante summoned me to the office.
I walked in with a grin. Confident. The folder had done its job. I expected a hand on the shoulder, approval, a quiet nod—everything mapped out.
Dante sat behind his desk and didn’t stand. He didn’t offer his hand. He pushed a thick file toward me instead.
“Is that the folder?” he asked, not looking up.
“Yes,” I said. “I sent it last night. It’s everything. Proof she cheated. With men. With partners. It proves motive. We can actually use it against her and her family.”
I watched Dante flip the pages, waiting for the nod, the quiet approval I’d rehearsed a hundred times. I pictured him leaning back, a slow smile, the same look he gave when a plan fell into place. He would see the proof. He would stand with me… and finally give me the divorce I have been waiting for.
“Son,” he said instead, slow and careful, “what did you tell me?”
“That it’s time,” I said. “Divorce her. I don’t love her anymore; she just used me and even dared to cheat on me. We can keep her, though—paralyzed, but her ideas are brilliant for the company. She betrayed us. We take everything. Her father will be shamed. The investors will—”
Dante shut the folder with a soft slap that sounded like a verdict. “You told me she cheated,” he said. His eyes bored into me. “And you told me you sent proof.”
My confidence stayed polished. “Yes. Dates, messages, photos. Motive. It’s airtight—”
He laughed. It wasn’t a surprise. It was not the laugh of a man amused; it was a small, cutting thing. “You think you know everything, don’t you?” He pushed the folder back toward me. “Look again.”
I turned the pages faster. The photos were there—late-night hotel receipts, transfers, timestamps. My pulse thudded when I hit the page I hadn’t expected: me, Katerina, close in ways I’d wanted kept private. Then another—Jacob’s paternity test, stamped and signed.
“You—” I started, panic flickering.
I hadn’t expected this. I hadn’t expected him to know. My father had always turned a blind eye to everything—he had his own mistress, after all. Why would he care about mine?
“There’s a mistake,” I said quickly, forcing calm into my tone. “Katerina and I—she was comforting me. Hannah was hysterical. You know how she gets when things don’t go her way.”
Dante’s eyes hardened. “Comforting?” His voice was low and sharp. “That’s what you call it now? You turned her best friend into your mistress and crippled her in the process—and you want me to believe it’s comfort?”
“She—she cheated first!” I shouted. “She drove me to it! I had to protect the family’s name. I sent you the proof—”
He cut me off with a cold laugh. “You mean the proof you fabricated? The one that was meant to paint her as a whore while you played the victim?” He slammed his fist against the table. “You dare turn Hannah into evil to justify what you’ve done?”
My chest burned. “I did it for the company! For us! If her father learns what she did, the shame alone would make him hand everything over—”
“And what if he learns what you did?” Dante roared. “What if he learns you framed his daughter, made her paralyzed for your mistress? Do you know what that will cost us? Do you even understand the magnitude of your stupidity?!”
I clenched my fists. “You’re overreacting. She can’t do anything anymore. She can’t even speak. She’s paralyzed! She’s better off silent, and I can still use her—use her image, use her father’s guilt. She’ll be useful to me one way or another.”
Dante stared at me as if I were poison. “Useful?” His voice dripped with disgust. “You speak of her like an object. Like she’s not human.”
“She isn’t anymore!” I snapped. “She’s just… there. I’ll take care of her. I’ll feed her, keep her in the house, and use her when needed. As long as she’s alive, her father will never let me go. It’s leverage. She’s leverage.”
He shook his head slowly, a bitter smile spreading across his face. “You really are your own downfall.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I hissed.
He reached behind him and picked up a single folder—sleek, crisp, new. “It means you can’t use her anymore.” He tossed it across the desk. “She already beat you to it.”
I frowned and opened it.
The air drained from my lungs. The papers were official. Stamped. Signed.
Divorce Petition: Hannah Elaine Hale vs. Dominic A. Hale.
Filed. Processed. Irrevocable.
I looked up. Dante’s gaze didn’t waver.
“She already divorced you,” he said, his tone like a verdict.
The whole room spun as I stood frozen.
