A Dominant Fallen (A Dominant Series Book 2) (16 page)

“Great minds,” he murmurs. “You look ravishing, angel, a true vision of beauty.”

I swept my honey hair into a French twist and applied only a little mascara. I’m happy with the results.

“Thanks, slick. You look quite dashing yourself.”

He struts over to me, as only he can, and takes my hand in his, raising it to his cheek. He presses it to his face and nuzzles against it. “I still can’t believe you’re here, you’re really back with me.”

“Yes, Hunt, I am, and I don’t intend on going anywhere.”

“It’s still hard for me to believe,” he murmurs, pained.

“I know, but you will.” I gently caress his defined cheek. He removes my hand, kissing the palm before taking it into his own.

“Gabrielle, I want you to do something for me…When you meet me at the restaurant, I want you to wear your collar.” I stare up at him anxiously. “Will you do that for me?”

“I’d do anything for you; you know that.” Truthfully, the idea terrifies me. When I wore it at the Opera house, I was with people involved in our lifestyle, but this will be in front of his family. I don’t understand his reasoning for this, but I’ll suck it up and do as he asks of me. “I would be honored.”

He grins down at me, releasing my hand, and heads into the closet. He returns with my white leather handbag and the solid silver collar, engraved with his name, and slides it inside, handing it to me.

“I can’t wait to see it on you,” he states, smirking that lopsided grin that drives me fucking bonkers and extends his large hand out to me. I toss my purse over my shoulder and take it, walking out of our room and down the hall toward the staircase. When we hit the top step, they spot us and rise about the large space. Each one smiles up at me and I return their warm gesture.

Once we make it to the last step, Aubrey and Keira rush me, green eyes aglitter, trapping me in their vice grip and hugging me until I can hardly breathe.

“Oh, Ellie,” Aubrey whispers in my ear, “It’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you so much. We all have.”

“Yes, Ellie,” Keira chimes in, “thank god you’re back. Take him off our hands, please.”

I giggle. “I’ve missed you all, too.”

They release their hold on me, only to push me into Vivian’s waiting arms.

“You look lovely, dear,” she says, patting and rubbing my back in that motherly way. “I’m so pleased you decided to give our Damian a second chance.”

I look back at Hunt, and he’s watching me with concern and admiration, a mix that melts my heart.

“Mother,” Damian steps in, “I think this can wait until later.”

“You’re right. We really should leave if we want to make our appointments at the spa.” She releases and holds me at arms-length, staring at me with the same icy blue eyes that sent me running from this place only months before, yet it feels like a lifetime ago. “We will catch-up then.”

“Sounds good,” I reply with a soft smile, but it’s a conversation I’m not too eager to have.

Pierce steps up behind his wife and clasps her biceps with both his hands. “Hello, Ellie dear. It’s great to see you. You’re looking very well.”

“Yes, thank you. It’s great to see you, too, Pierce.”

Hunt comes up to me and places his hand on the small of my back, rubbing the curve with his thumb.

“Are we ready to go?” he asks everyone, but his emerald eyes beam at mine.

“Yes, dear, let’s go,” Vivian answers.

We make our way over to the elevator, sliding in, and ride it down to the lobby. A place I’ve not seen since our fateful night.

W
e end up at the spa, Pure, my favorite place to go with my mom and Jules, and head to the lockers to undress and throw on our terrycloth robes. It is the softest, plushest thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of cocooning myself in.

We receive full-body massages with skin treatments, and after, while Vivian is getting a waxing, Aubrey, Keira, and I head into the steam room. We are the only ones in here, which is nice, but also terrifying. I know they’ll want to talk.

I take my place on the top step, unwrapping my towel and laying it over the hot, wet royal blue tiles. I sprawl out and take a steadying breath, readying myself for the barrage of questions and comments about to come my way.

“So,” Aubrey says, right on cue. “How have you been, Ellie? We heard about your father…We’re so sorry for your loss. I understand what you’re going through…”

“We both do,” Keira intervenes.

I don’t look at them; instead, I stare up at the dark-tiled ceiling. “Thank you, but if we could not talk about it, I would really appreciate it.”

“Sure, of course, honey,” Aubrey assures.

“How’s the restaurant, Bree?” I ask, attempting to keep the conversation from steering into any heavy topics.

“It’s wonderful,” she replies, but doesn’t go into any detail, leaving me hanging. We sit there in awkward silence, waiting, waiting to talk about all the things I know they are dying to ask.

“Alright, fine.” Keira finally breaks the quiet. “I guess it has to be me. What the hell happened that night, Ellie?”

Oh god, here we go. What do I tell them? How much do they know? How much would Hunt tell them? They must notice something is off. I doubt Dante has made an appearance, which probably raises even more questions. CRAP!

“I wasn’t ready for a commit…”

“No,” Aubrey interrupts, “what really happened, Ellie, with Dante?”

I sit up rapidly, and my wide eyes meet theirs. “Excuse me?”

“We know…Damian came over the night you left, crying and soaking wet, confused and depressed. I’d never seen him like that before. Ever. He was…hollow. After a few stiff drinks, he told us about Dante attacking you, Olivia, the break-up.”

“He did?” I ask, amazed by his openness.

“Yeah, but he filled us in Friday night with the other details of that night…We just want to hear it firsthand from you.”

I’m still stunned about Hunt being so open with his family. “I really can’t go into it. I’m trying to forget any of it ever happened. It was terrifying…What did he tell you about Olivia?”

We all stare at one another, unsure of what the other knows and how much we can divulge.

“How much do you know?” Keira utters, shooting me a dramatic side-glance, and we have a good laugh. It bounces off every surface.

“I know everything I need to know about her. Hunt informed me about that part of his life. I can’t get him to open up about his earlier memories, like your uncle and parents.”

“Then I think we’re all on the same page,” Aubrey replies. “What a sick fucking bitch. I wanted to rip her eyes out and punch her in the tit when he told us.”

I laugh out, “I couldn’t agree more…Wait, is this why they aren’t with us today?”

“Yep,” Keira answers, “Mom pretty much disowned them. None of us have seen or heard from Dante since the night before your attack, or Olivia since my parents cast her out. What a night that was.”

“Wow,” I murmur to myself. “So, has Hunt told you anything about the search for Dante?”

“No,” Aubrey responds, “only that he was going to track him down and not to inform the cops.”

She has a suspicious look on her face, as if she knows something she shouldn’t tell me.

“Bree, what aren’t you telling me?” She glances away in an attempt to conceal her telling face. “Bree,” I snap.

She snaps her head around, staring me in the eye. “Hunt had Liam follow you around while you weren’t together except when you went to stay with your mom in Marin.”

“What!?” I yelp.

“Yeah, he had Chase keep tabs on you while you were there, to ensure that you were being taken care of, protected, in case Dante came after you again. Apparently, he took very good care of you.” She smirks at me, and I can’t stop myself from smirking back. “Hunt said you ran away and hadn’t talked to anyone since…Anyway, have you spoken to him yet?”

“Jeez. How much did Hunt tell you…? No, I…He wasn’t the only reason…It’s complicated.”

“Yeah, that’s obvious,” Keira giggles out.

A
few hours later, we leave Pure feeling refreshed and fabulous, with our new mani-pedis and freshly blown-out hair. The girls brought extra clothes for dinner, including a black midi dress and electric blue pumps for me. It has an adi neckline, peplum waist, and fits me like a glove.

Like brother, like sisters.

I managed to get the collar on myself, twisting it around so his name is toward the back, under my hair, which I left down for just this reason. Vivian complimented me on it, and I blushed furiously.

We are now on our way to the restaurant to meet Hunt and Pierce for dinner. It’s now dark out and my focus is on the hunk of metal about my neck so I don’t notice where we are until we pull up to a cozy little bistro right down the block from my apartment, literally. Frascati, a neighborhood gem, sits on the corner of Hyde & Green St. with a wonderful view of the cable cars passing by. I’ve dined here quite a bit with Chase, Jules, and my…

I love how the intimate restaurant is located in a two-story Victorian. The side and second floor were left to appear as if still a home, yet the bottom half was converted into the restaurant’s main floor, with an all glass edifice.

Hunt and Pierce are at the curb when we step out, offering us a hand when needed.

“Good evening, ladies. You all look stunning,” Pierce greets us. I’m the last to exit. Without hesitation, Damian holds his hand out to me and I take it, gratefully, holding on for dear life. I don’t trust myself in heels.

“You’re simply magnificent, Gabrielle.”

I notice he changed his outfit to a black suit and a white button-up, collar undone
.

I do love this look on a man, my man
.

His chocolaty hair is slicked back, and his five o’clock shadow looks good enough to lick. He’s completely fuckworthy right now, not as if he ever isn’t, and I can’t have him.

He peers down at my collar with a pleased grin, a grin that gives me a warm, satisfied feeling deep in my gut. He looks as if he wants to give me a proper greeting, as if he wants to take me in his arms and never let go, but, instead, he offers me an elbow and guides us into the bistro, radiating a sense of pride.

I grin to myself, delighted by the pleasure he takes in me, even out of the bedroom.

From the street, it appears small, but once inside, you spot the tall ceiling adorned with antique, iron light fixtures. I admire the way they bathe our inviting surroundings in a soft, golden glow, giving a romantic charm to its already alluring ambiance. I love the warm, summery-hued walls with their accent molding, and the lightly worn wood floors. The small tables are draped in crisp white linens. I absolutely adore the old country charm of this San Fran hot spot.

We are escorted to the back, under a large balcony that spans the width of the narrow venue, by an enthusiastic hostess. She smiles pleasantly as we take our seats, placing our menus in front of us. Once we are all seated, she announces, “Your waiter will be with you in just a moment.”

“Thank you,” Hunt and Pierce respond in unison. It’s sweet.

We study our menus, but I only skim mine to check for anything new. Besides, I’m sure Hunt will insist on ordering for me, so the point seems moot.

Our server walks up, a handsome man with ash blonde hair and sparkling hazel eyes, and says, “Hello. My name is Chad and I’ll be taking care of you this evening.”

I notice that he glances at me when he says,
‘I’ll be taking care of you,’
and I’m not the only one. Hunt tosses his arm about my shoulders, cuddling me into my nook.

“Can I start you off with any appetizers, or your drinks, perhaps?”

“Yes,
Chad
,” Hunt chimes in, staring him down and emphasizing his name. “This will be for everyone…We’ll take two bottles of the 2010 Thibault Liger-Belair, Les Saint Georges, Nuits Saint-Georges Premier Cru., and the burrata with prosciutto di parma.”

Chad seems slightly nervous under Hunt’s scrutinizing gaze. “Very good, sir. Will that be all?”

“Yes,
Chad,
that will be all.” His tone is less than polite. I nudge his ribs with my elbow, but it doesn’t faze him.

Our server slumps away and we begin chatting and catching up, keeping the topics pleasant, light, Dante and Olivia free.

We sit about the table, as our server clears our salad plates, waiting for the main course to arrive. The food is a blend of Mediterranean and local influences. It’s truly delectable.

“So, Ellie,” Vivian says, “how is your mother doing, dear? I haven’t seen her since the funeral. She’s been a hard woman to get a hold of.”

“You were there?” I ask with shock.

“Yes, but we felt it was best to keep our distance…We didn’t want you to be any more uncomfortable than you already were,” she replies, with a look of sympathy and concern on her face.

“That,” Keira adds, twisting the stem of her glass between her fingers, “and Ian told us to stay away.”

“I’m sorry? He told you?”