His to Love, Not to Claim

Dominic's POV

He never liked these parties.

Too much laughter. Too many lies.

A room full of suits and sequins pretending they weren't all playing God with blood money.

But tonight, Dominic Voss had a reason to go.

And more importantly, a reason to take someone with him.

He found her on the balcony, barefoot, one hand cradling the gentle swell of her belly, the other holding a tea she hadn't touched.

"You're quiet tonight," he said.

Aria didn't turn. "I'm always quiet lately."

"I need you loud again." He said

She glanced at him, her brows drawing together slightly. "Why?"

It was not or Never to ask her he thought

"Because I asked you to come with me. To the Ballentine anniversary gala."

Aria blinked. "You want me at a mafia adjacent masquerade?"

His lips quirked. "It's technically a business dinner. But yes. I want you there."

She looked back out at the skyline. "Why?"

"Because I don't trust anyone. And you're the only person who makes me feel like maybe I still have a soul."
⸻

Two hours later, she stepped into the room in the dress he'd had sent up to her, a floor length midnight blue silk that hugged every curve without being obscene. Elegant. Powerful. A perfect contradiction.

Dominic couldn't breathe for a moment.

Then he moved behind her, silent as shadow.

"There's one more thing."

He lifted the box from the table black velvet, understated and flipped it open.

The necklace was delicate but lethal: a string of white diamonds that caught the light like falling stars, with a single teardrop sapphire in the center.

Her breath hitched. "Dominic..."

"Turn around," he murmured.

She did.

He stepped closer so close she could feel his breath on her bare shoulder  and fastened the clasp behind her neck. His fingers brushed her skin. Light. Intentional.

She didn't move.

"You don't have to wear it," he said quietly. "But I want you to. Because when people see you tonight, I want them to know you're not standing beside me... You belong to no one."

His voice dropped, rough and low.

"But I'll go to war for you."

⸻

The Ballentine estate was all marble and gold and shadows pretending to be chandeliers. Laughter echoed in every hallway. Waiters glided with champagne flutes and false smiles.

Aria stayed by his side, chin high, eyes cautious.

She didn't know she was already the most watched woman in the room.

And then—

"Dominic."

He turned, already braced.

Luca.

His younger half brother looked like someone had poured charm into a custom tux slick, smiling, dangerous in the way that only people who never got told no could be.

And on his arm?

Nina.

The same Nina who claimed to just want to catch up with Aria.

Now dressed in deep burgundy silk, lips blood-red, eyes sharp as daggers clinging to Luca like she'd been doing it for years.

"Look at this," Luca grinned. "The devil brought a date."

Aria stiffened beside him.

Nina smiled sweetly. "Small world."

Dominic's face remained neutral.

But inside?

He was already calculating every possible reason they were here together.

And none of them were good.

⸻

As the night wore on, the music swelled, and alliances were whispered behind wine glasses.

But Dominic barely moved from Aria's side.

When she excused herself to the restroom, his eyes followed her the entire way across the room and then flicked sharply to Nina.

She met his stare with a smile too polite to be genuine.

"I know what you're doing," he murmured under his breath as he stepped closer.

Nina didn't flinch. "Then you must know it's working."

Before he could speak again, Luca returned with two drinks, sliding one toward Dominic like they were still brothers.

Dominic didn't take it.

Instead, his eyes drifted back to the hallway Aria still hadn't returned.

A ripple of unease slid down his spine.