I felt his presence before I saw him. A shadow fell over me, and for a moment, I thought I stopped breathing.
The room was suddenly too quiet, too cold. My hand still throbbed.
He knelt in front of me.
I didn't look at him.
He reached for my hand—I pulled it back.
"I said I'm fine."
"You're bleeding all over the damn floor," he snapped, grabbing my wrist anyway, firm but not rough. "Stop being stubborn."
"Why do you even care?" I spat. "Worried your toy might break before your next party?"
He didn't answer. Not at first. He pulled a silk handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it around my palm, pressing gently where the cut was deepest.
I winced but didn't pull away this time.
"I got a call from Harrow," he muttered, eyes locked on my hand, not my face. "He said you took a knife."
"So?"
"So what the fuck were you thinking, Liana?"
"I wasn't thinking," I whispered bitterly. "That's the problem, right? That I still try to feel something in a place that only kills everything soft?"
His fingers stilled.
I looked at him then—really looked at him.
For the first time, I saw something flicker in those cold eyes. Worry? Regret? I didn't know. Maybe I imagined it.
"I'm not made of stone, Liana," he said quietly.
"Could've fooled me."
He exhaled slowly, tying the cloth tighter.
"I don't want to hurt you," he said, almost to himself.
"But you do. Every day," I shot back. "You hurt me every time you pretend I'm not human."
We sat in silence for a moment, his hand still cradling mine, blood soaking through expensive fabric.
"Go to hell, Dominic Voss," i said, voice steady despite the quake in my hands.
"I hate you."
He didn't blink.
Didn't smirk.
Didn't say a single thing.
Instead… he crossed the room in three strides, grabbed her face in both hands—
And kissed her.
Hard. Unapologetic.
Not gentle.
Not sweet.
But desperate. Raw. Like he was drowning and she was the last breath of air.
I tried to push him away. My fists hit his chest — but i didn't pull back. My lips trembled beneath his.
He finally pulled away, breath heavy.
I was frozen, heart pounding in my chest like a drum of rage. Dominic had just taken something i never gave — my first kiss.
He dared.
But i did something else.
I raised my hand eyes wild, furious, humiliated and swung it toward his face.
He caught it mid-air.
Fingers curled around my wrist, firm and unflinching.
"Don't," he said quietly, eyes dark and unreadable. "Don't pretend you weren't affected."
"You're disgusting!" i spat. "You had no right"
"Hate me all you want," he murmured, eyes locked on hers.
"I'll send for the doctor," he finally said, standing up. "Stay in your room."
I didn't answer.
And he didn't apologize.
Because monsters don't say sorry.