Chapter 3 - The Transactional Vow
Gabriel did not return Dominic’s smile. Instead, the attorney set his crystal tumbler down on the low coaster with a sharp, definitive click that resonated across the timber floorboards. He looked at Dominic with an expression hovering between disbelief and deep-seated ethical exhaustion.
"And Emma?" Gabriel asked, his voice tightening. "Does she deserve to live inside a fabricated reality? Why did you marry her, Dominic? You could have hired an executive assistant and an estate manager to screen your life. You didn't need to put a diamond ring on a woman's finger and take holy vows just to secure domestic tranquility."
Dominic took another slow, deliberate swallow of his scotch, letting the amber liquid linger before answering. He moved with the fluid, heavy grace of an athlete, walking behind his massive mahogany desk and sinking back into his high-backed leather executive chair. He leaned back, lacing his long, calloused fingers across his chest, the black fabric of his shirt pulling against his pectoral muscles.
"Why Emma?" Dominic mused aloud, as though evaluating the acquisition of a minor shipping subsidiary. "Look at her, Gabriel. She comes from an old Virginia family with immaculate pedigree and zero financial leverage left to their name. She was raised with old-world manners, an innate sense of duty, and an absolute horror of public scandal. She doesn’t spend her days chasing social media notoriety or demanding a seat on my board."
He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he stared into the hearth flames.
"She makes a good wife. She is decorative, exquisitely polite, impeccably organized, and fiercely loyal. My mother approves of her. The board trusts her presence beside me because she softens my edges in public. And above all, she asks for nothing because she believes I am broken in a way that requires her constant care."
Outside the heavy door, Emma pressed her back against the cool cream wall. Her eyes were wide, staring into the dim recess of the gallery ceiling. The words pierced through her with surgical precision, stripping away five years of shared memories, five years of quiet mornings by the lake, five years of believing that beneath his hardened exterior, Dominic Vance harbored a deep, vulnerable soul that only she knew how to protect.
She makes a good wife.
Not I love her. Not She is my partner. Not even She brings me joy. She was a functional asset, a strategic choice selected for her pliant nature and high tolerance for emotional starvation. She had spent half a decade constructing an identity as his sanctuary, only to discover she was merely his most effective unpaid employee.
"It’s cynical, even for you," Gabriel muttered, shaking his head. "You're keeping her in an emotional cage, Dom. What happens when she finds out? And she will find out. Lies of this magnitude don't survive indefinitely. Eventually, a doctor slips, or you react to a sound you weren't supposed to hear."
Dominic shrugged, a careless, dismissive lift of his broad shoulders that chilled Emma to her very marrow.
"She won't find out. Emma sees what she wants to see. She is an idealist, Gabe. Idealists are remarkably easy to manage because they spend all their energy protecting the illusion they've built." Dominic leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk, the hard planes of his face hardening into absolute pragmatism. "And even if she suspected something, where would she go? Her father's estate was liquidated two years ago. I quietly settled her family's trust deficits. She has no independent wealth, no professional standing outside my foundations. She is tethered to this house, to my name, and to me."
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Emma’s breath hitched in her throat. Her hand trembled violently, the silver hearing aids clicking softly against the storage case in her palm. The tiny, metallic sound was no louder than a pin dropping on velvet, but in the suffocating stillness of the corridor, it sounded to her ears like a gunshot.
She held her breath, praying the heavy oak doors had muffled the sound, waiting for Dominic’s sharp command to demand who was lingering in the hall.
