Chapter 1339
Chapter 1339:
There was something agonizing in his eyes. A sorrow that bypassed logic and buried itself deep in my chest.
Then his tone shifted—cold, sharp like broken glass. “You’re not coming because you’re going to marry Jett, aren’t you?”
I opened my mouth. No words came. Nothing fit the chaos spinning in my chest.
Jett had been kind. But whenever he spoke of marriage, something inside me recoiled, quiet and inexplicable.
Dominic’s hand snapped to the back of my neck, tilting my face up to his. “You’re mine, Makenna,” he growled. “I’m the only man you’ll ever marry.” There was desperation beneath the edge of his voice. A feral sort of fear.
His gaze burned with obsession, as though loving me had turned into something uncontrollable.
I was trembling from head to toe. Before I could move, his fingers were already laced around mine, dragging me from the garden like it was already decided.
“Let me go!” I fought against his grip, twisting.
“It’s too late,” he breathed, voice low, close to my ear. “I’ve lost you once. I won’t lose you again.”
“No!” I shoved hard at his chest, feeling the wild rhythm of his heart under my palm. “Even if I wanted to… I can’t just run off with you like this!”
Dominic’s eyes darkened instantly—deep and wild, like a storm creeping over the sea.
In one swift motion, he seized my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze again. “I’m not the only one looking for you. Bryan. Clayton. Alice—they’re all tearing the world apart to find you. And your son, Winfred… he misses you. Desperately.”
The names struck like darts to the brain. My hands flew to my temples as if I could push the pain back in.
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My son?
Jett’s smile flashed in my mind—warm, patient, heartbreakingly kind. My lips trembled. I bit down, shaking my head. “I can’t leave. Not yet…”
Dominic burst out with an unhinged laugh. “Fine,” he said, and that dangerous grin curved across his face. “Then I won’t leave either.”
Before I could react, his arm slid around my waist like a steel band, and he began striding forward, straight into the villa. Straight into my bedroom.
“Have you lost your mind?” I hissed, keeping my voice low, thrashing against his hold. But it was useless. He moved like a man possessed.
His palm pressed against the small of my back—hot through my clothes, scalding compared to the chill in my blood.
As soon as we entered the bedroom, he locked the door behind us with a solid click. Then he pinned me to it, his body caging mine with a force that sent adrenaline roaring through my veins.
My spine kissed the cold wood. My chest collided with his heat.
He buried his face in the curve of my neck and drew in a breath, as if trying to inhale my soul. “I can finally feel you again,” he murmured.
That scent—his scent—wrapped around me like a memory I couldn’t recall—but my body remembered. It responded before my mind could catch up.
My fingers, trembling and unsure, curled into the fabric of his shirt.
“For two months,” he rasped, brushing his lips against my ear, “I’ve dreamed of you. Every single night.”
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