The door swung open with a loud creak, the heavy footsteps reverberating through the room as Dominic strode in, his gaze fixed on Elijah, who was still tied to the chair. His jaw clenched, eyes dark with a mixture of fury and something more dangerous.
"Elijah," Dominic's voice was low, controlled, but the tension in his tone was unmistakable. He was trying to keep himself composed, but Elijah could see the anger simmering just beneath the surface.
Elijah's heart raced, not out of fear, but because he could feel the heat of Dominic's gaze burning into him. The ropes around his wrists were digging in, but he didn't care. What mattered was that Dominic was here.
"Don't look at me like that," Elijah muttered, his voice laced with annoyance. He hated the feeling of helplessness, even if it was just a temporary situation.
Dominic's eyes darkened, his body taking a step forward, closing the space between them. "Like what, Eli?"
The nickname—there it was again. Dominic was the only one who called him that. It did something to Elijah, a warmth in his chest he tried to ignore. He could never get used to the way it made his heart flutter.
"You really think you can just show up here and pretend everything's fine?" Elijah shot back, trying to appear unaffected. "This is your mess, not mine. I didn't ask for any of this!"
Dominic's face softened, but his expression remained tense. "You're not in this alone. This is my mess, and I'm cleaning it up. You don't have to worry about a thing, Eli."
Elijah wanted to scoff, wanted to lash out and say something cutting. But the sincerity in Dominic's eyes stopped him. For the first time since they'd been thrown into this chaos, Elijah wasn't sure if he was angry or relieved.
Dominic knelt in front of him, his hands gently brushing against the ropes. He was careful, as if not wanting to hurt him. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this. I'll get you out, I promise."
"Why do you care?" Elijah whispered, his voice softer now, laced with confusion.
Dominic's gaze flickered to him, and for a moment, it was like time slowed. "Because you're mine."
Elijah's breath caught in his throat. The weight of the words, the intensity in Dominic's voice—it was impossible to ignore.
"You're mine, Eli," Dominic repeated, his hand moving to the ropes around Elijah's wrists. With one swift motion, they were undone, and Elijah's hands fell free.
Elijah's heart raced in his chest, the sudden sense of freedom both exhilarating and terrifying. He could run, he could escape, but a part of him wanted to stay.
"You've made your point," Elijah said, his voice steadier than he felt. "Now, let's get out of here before Matteo comes back."
Dominic nodded, his face hardening once again. He stood, offering a hand to Elijah. As their fingers brushed, Elijah could feel the heat between them. A simple touch, yet it sent electricity through his veins.
The door to the room creaked open again, and the sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway. They didn't have much time.
"Let's go," Dominic muttered, pulling Elijah to his feet.
They were about to make their escape. But not without one last fight.
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