"That was a bit much, don't you think?" Ester asked, her voice echoing in the quiet of the library after Dominic ended the call.
Dominic tossed the phone back onto the desk as if it were a piece of trash. He leaned against the mahogany edge, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "A bit much? Ester, I've been holding that back for three years. If anything, I was being remarkably restrained. I didn't even mention the fact that his father owes my holding company twenty million in personal gambling debts."
Ester sank deeper into the velvet chair, the scotch finally starting to warm her from the inside out. "You're terrifying, you know that? You move pieces on a board I didn't even know existed."
"It's not a board, Ester. It's a ecosystem. And Xavier was a parasite that thought he was an apex predator," Dominic said, his gaze softening as he looked at her. "Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I have," she whispered. "I'm looking at one. You were just a memory, Dominic. A boy who used to help me with my calculus and stole my sketches to keep them safe. Now you're ... this."
"I'm still that boy," Dominic replied, stepping closer. "I just have better suits and a slightly more aggressive legal team. But the mission hasn't changed. It's always been about you."
Ester looked up at him, her eyes searching his. "Why? Why me? There are a thousand women in London or New York who would kill to have you look at them the way you're looking at me. Why wait seven years for a married architect who was too blind to see her own worth?"
Dominic let out a short, dry laugh. He reached down, gently taking the empty glass from her hand and setting it aside. "Because none of them are you. None of them have your mind, your fire, or the way you look when you're about to solve a structural impossibility. You think I'm a titan of industry, Ester? I'm just a man who fell in love with a girl under a willow tree at university and never figured out how to stop."
Ester felt a blush creep up her neck. "We were twenty-one, Dominic. People grow out of those things."
"I didn't," he said simply. "I grew into it. Every building I bought, every company I merged, I did it with the thought of making myself powerful enough that one day, when you finally realized Xavier was a mistake, I could be the one to catch you."
"But I was happy. Or I thought I was," Ester countered, her voice dropping. "Did you really want to break up a marriage?"
"If it was a real marriage? No," Dominic said, his voice turning cold again. "But I knew it wasn't. I knew about Chloe two years ago. I knew about the way he spoke to you in private. I knew he was gaslighting you into thinking your designs were 'lucky' rather than genius. A marriage built on theft and lies isn't a marriage, Ester. It's a crime scene."
Ester stood up, her legs a bit shaky. "I need to wash my face. I feel like I'm covered in the soot of my old life."
"Second floor, third door on the right," Dominic said, pointing toward the stairs. "Everything is ready for you. And Ester?"
She paused at the library door. "Yes?"
"Don't worry about the Emerald City. On Monday, we aren't just going to stop Xavier. We're going to announce the birth of Sterling-Ester Developments. You aren't an employee anymore. You're the owner."
Ester smiled, a genuine, sharp smile that reached her eyes. "I like the sound of that. But I think I want my name first."
Dominic grinned, a rare, bright flash of teeth. "As you wish. Ester-Sterling. It has a better ring to it anyway."
Ester walked up the stairs, the plush carpet muffling her steps. The suite Dominic had prepared for her was larger than her entire old apartment. It was decorated in soft greys and creams, with a balcony overlooking the city skyline. On the bed lay a silk pajama set and a robe that looked softer than a cloud.
She spent an hour in the bath, scrubbing away the tension of the gala, the smell of Xavier's cigarettes, and the feeling of being 'less than.' When she finally emerged, she felt human again. She put on the robe and walked to the balcony, looking out at the glittering lights of the city she had helped shape.
A soft knock came at the door.
"It's open," Ester called out.
Dominic walked in, carrying a tablet. He looked different now, he had taken off his tie and rolled up his sleeves, looking more like the boy from university than the billionaire from the gala.
"Sorry to disturb you," he said, "but something just popped up on the news cycle. I thought you should see it before you sleep."
Ester took the tablet. It was a leaked video from the gala's parking lot. It showed Xavier and Chloe having a screaming match. Chloe was crying, shouting that Xavier had promised her the Emerald City penthouse, and Xavier was yelling that he was ruined.
"The vultures are circling," Ester remarked, handing the tablet back.
"It gets better," Dominic said, scrolling down. "Look at the comments. Someone leaked the original drafthouse files of the museum you designed. The ones Xavier claimed he drew by hand. The timestamp proves they were created on your personal laptop three years ago."
Ester's heart hammered. "You did that? That could get us in trouble for leaked proprietary data."
"I didn't do it," Dominic said, his eyes glinting. "I suspect a disgruntled intern in Xavier's office saw the writing on the wall and decided to jump ship with a bang. But the result is the same. The industry knows he's a fraud."
"He's going to lose everything by morning, isn't he?"
"By noon," Dominic corrected. "But that's not why I came up here."
Ester leaned against the balcony railing. "Then why?"
Dominic stepped closer, the moonlight catching the sharp angles of his face. "I wanted to give you this. It arrived by courier ten minutes ago."
He handed her a small, weathered leather notebook. Ester's breath hitched. She recognized it instantly. It was her sketchbook from senior year, the one that had gone missing a week before graduation.
"You found it?" she whispered, tracing the embossed 'E' on the cover. "Xavier told me I must have left it on the bus."
"Xavier stole it," Dominic said, his voice low and dangerous. "He used the sketches inside to win his first three contracts. I've been tracking it down through private collectors for years. He sold it to a rival firm for five thousand dollars when he was short on cash during his first year of business."
Ester opened the book. On the first page, in her own handwriting, were the words: Dreams of a City. And underneath, a small note she had forgotten. Dedicated to D, who always believed I could reach the stars.
She looked up at Dominic, tears stinging her eyes. "You remembered."
"I never forgot a single word you wrote, Ester," Dominic said, reaching out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear.
Suddenly, Dominic's phone in his pocket began to vibrate aggressively. He ignored it at first, but it wouldn't stop. He sighed and checked the screen. His expression shifted from tenderness to a sharp, professional mask.
"What is it?" Ester asked, sensing the shift in the air.
Dominic looked at her, his jaw tightening. "It's my head of security. There's a car at the front gate. And it's not Xavier."
Ester frowned. "Then who would come here at two in the morning?"
Dominic looked back at the screen, a look of grim realization on his face.
"It's Chloe. And she's not here to fight. She's carrying a box of files and she looks like she's been running for her life."