Page 95 of Bound in Ruin

“Keane…” I groan. “Come on.”

He continues with a laugh, "'Dominic is not as cold and careless as he wants the world to believe. He wears a very heavy armor, and he lets people think he’s ruthless…”

I tune out the rest of the words because I can feel my face heat up like a stove.

Helena drops the magazine onto the table with a theatrical clatter, crossing her arms as she looks between the two of us. "You two were publicly defending each other's honor in a national magazine before you even fully settled your fight privately!"

"It's true," Keane agrees, shaking his head with a grin. "You've both been caring for each other a hell of a lot longer than either of you wants to admit."

More heat instantly rushes up my neck, flushing my cheeks a bright, burning red. I stare down at my plate, trying desperately to regain my composure.

Beside me, Dominic doesn't even bother to deny it. He throws his head back and laughs, openly enjoying Keane and Helena’s endless teasing.

Unable to take his smug amusement for another second, I reach over and slap his arm hard.

"Ow!" Dominic exclaims, rubbing his bicep as his laugh turns even louder, his dark eyes sparkling down at me with pure delight. "What was that for?"

"For sitting there looking pleased with yourself!" I huff, though I can't stop the stubborn smile from breaking across my face as he wraps his arm around the back of my chair, pulling me closer to his side.

He kisses me thoroughly right in front of them, paying no mind to the dramatic groans coming from across the table. Helena covers her eyes with a dish towel while Keane mutters something about losing his appetite, but I just melt into Dominic's arms, letting the heat of his mouth sweep away the last of my embarrassment.

Today was off to a marvelous start.

The plan for the morning is simple and perfect: Dominic and I will lounge together in the quiet shade of the garden for a few hours, and then by noon, we’ll head over to Camilla's house.

I’ve spent days coordinating a double date with Camilla and her husband, Maksim.

It took me a solid two hours of endless bargaining, threats, pouting, and strategic persuasion to convince Dominic to come with me. Maksim isn't exactly the easiest man to sit down with, and Dominic isn't known for making friendly small talk with other powerful men.

But he finally agreed, and we’re going.

If this goes well, we can start having more dates like this. I don't just want my sisters to stay close—I want our husbands to build a bridge, too. In our world, survival means strength, and we have to stay united.

Dominic's thumb traces small, comforting circles on my shoulder as we turn our attention back to the table.

Suddenly, the harsh ring of Keane’s phone cuts through the warm atmosphere.

Keane pulls the device from his inner jacket pocket, glances at the caller ID, and his entire posture shifts into instant alert. Without a word to us, he stands up from the table, his face unreadable, and hurries away down the long corridor to take the call in private.

I see Dominic’s gaze follow Keane down the hallway, his dark eyes narrowing slightly, but I think nothing of it as we round off breakfast.

A minute later, Keane reappears at the entrance of the dining room. His expression is completely smooth, but there's a tight, guarded tension in his jaw. "Boss. There’s something urgent. We have to go."

Dominic exchanges a long, silent look with Keane, the unspoken language of years of business passing between them in a split second. Without a word of protest, he rises from his chair.

He steps over to my side, leans down, and presses a lingering kiss to my forehead. "I'll see you later. I'll come pick you up right on time for the hangout with your sister and her husband."

"Okay," I murmur, watching him grab his jacket.

I watch him go, feeling a little dejected that our quiet morning lounging in the garden just evaporated into thin air.

Helena clears away the empty coffee cups, giving me a warm, sympathetic smile as the heavy front doors click shut in the distance.

"Don't look too dejected, Rosalia," she says gently, nodding toward the floor where a small fluffy head pops up. "Yapper and I will keep you company."

I laugh, reaching down to scoop Yapper into my lap as he wags his tail furiously. "You're the best, Helena."

Hours later, the bright morning sun has shifted into the high afternoon. I’m sitting out in the garden with Helena, sipping iced tea while Yapper chases butterflies through the manicured lawn, when my phone buzzes on the outdoor table.