The Don’s Heiress Won’t Choose Him Again Chapter 06
I didn’t bother responding to Roman’s ranting. I turned my gaze to Dominic.
He was standing there quietly, and there was something dim in his eyes.
I drew in a breath and yanked my wrist out of Roman’s grip.
He staggered a step, staring at me, disbelieving.
I didn’t look at him again. I walked straight to Dominic.
I reached for his hand. His fingers curled slightly by reflex, but he didn’t pull away.
Then I rose on my toes and pressed a light kiss to his cool lips.
The room fell silent.
“Who said I don’t love him?”
Dominic’s eyes widened.
Those always-composed eyes were suddenly wide with astonishment.
I nearly laughed. It was rare to see him—him, always so calm, always so controlled—shocked into speechlessness.
Roman’s already dark face went thunderous.
He forced a cold laugh through his teeth. “Fine. Valentina, don’t you ever regret this.”
He paused, shooting me a savage glare.
“Sera and I will be married soon too. When you finally break down and come crying to me, it’ll be too late!”
The words sounded familiar.
Dominic had once said something similar to me—warning me not to choose him, not to regret it later.
But from these two men, the same words meant entirely different things.
One had spoken with humble hope and careful tenderness, terrified I might have chosen wrongly and would suffer for it.
The other spoke with wounded pride and stubborn certainty, absolutely convinced I couldn’t live without him, waiting to see me humiliated.
Roman said no more. He grabbed Serafina—her face still cycling through a dozen expressions—and stormed out of the ballroom.
She stumbled after him, the smug little smile not entirely gone from her lips.
Only after they had disappeared through the doorway did Dominic seem to come out of some long dream.
He looked at me, his voice a little hoarse.
“Valentina. Am I… have I had too much to drink?”
“This isn’t a dream, is it?”
“You really… chose me?”
I looked at him, and something in me softened.
I reached out and gently curled my fingers around his, letting him feel me.
“Well? Is it still a dream?”
He stepped forward and pulled me tightly into his arms, his chin resting on the crown of my head, “You chose me.” His voice shook. “I’m so glad.”
I let myself lean into him and breathed in the clean, pleasant scent of him. Whatever bitter aftertaste Roman had left began to fade.
After the banquet, Dominic walked me back to my room.
He held my hand the whole way, tightly, as if I might vanish the second he let go.
At my door he stopped and looked at me with quiet intensity.
“Valentina. Thank you.” His voice was low, serious.
I arched a brow. “For what?”
“For… choosing me.”
He paused, then added, “And thank you for giving me a chance.”
“Then you’d better make it worth my while,” I teased lightly.
He nodded, in dead earnest. “I will.”
That earnestness made me smile despite myself.