Chapter 410

The amber liquid swirled in Dominic's glass as he downed another shot. The dim bar lights blurred his vision, matching the haze in his mind. He'd never felt this hollow before—like the world had crumbled beneath him.

"Hey there, gorgeous. Drinking alone is such a waste." A sultry voice purred beside him as a woman with crimson nails traced circles on his forearm.

Dominic squinted through the alcohol fog. "Why not?" he slurred, barely registering her face.

A sudden force yanked the woman away mid-protest. Dominic staggered to his feet. "The hell—"

Cold air slapped his face as someone dragged him outside by his collar. His stomach lurched. "Who—what—"

The winter wind sobered him just enough to realize he was being shoved into a luxury car. The door slammed like a gunshot.

"Have you lost your damn mind?"

Ice-cold water drenched him. Dominic gasped, shock clearing his vision. The interior light revealed Genevieve Sinclair's sharp features, her designer coat untouched by the chaos.

"Mother, I—"

The dam broke. Dominic crumpled against her shoulder, sobs wracking his frame like a child scraped raw by the world. For once, Genevieve didn't correct his informal address. Her gloved hand hovered before settling on his damp hair.

When the storm passed, Dominic wiped his face with trembling hands. Genevieve thrust a monogrammed handkerchief at him. "Clean up. You're a Reeves, not some back-alley drunk."

"I've ruined everything." His voice cracked. "DR Holdings is finished. I'm—"

"Stop that pathetic whining." Genevieve's cufflinks glinted as she leaned forward. "Do you think I crawled out of poverty by weeping over spilled champagne? That bastard father of yours gambled us away like chips at a casino. I fought tooth and nail to marry into the Sinclair name while society laughed behind their fans."

Dominic flinched as her pearl necklace grazed his cheek. "Every diamond I wear was paid for in blood and scheming. And you're ready to surrender because of one setback?"

The car hummed with silence. Outside, neon signs painted Dominic's shame in garish colors. Genevieve's perfume—something expensive and unyielding—filled the space between them.

"I just... don't see a way out," he whispered.

Genevieve's laugh was razor-sharp. "Then open your damn eyes." She snapped her fingers. The driver pulled away from the curb, carrying them both into the glittering night.