Page 29 of Bound in Ruin

And I must be just as filthy as he is, because the entire time, my body was absolutely on fire. I have never felt that kind of intense heat for any man in my life.

Goodness.

I push away from him, turning to glare just as the photographer approaches us, practically beaming from ear to ear.

"These pictures are going to be absolute fire," he says, clapping his hands together.

"Thank you," we say almost in unison.

The photographer shakes his head, looking between the two of us in genuine awe. "I've been in this business for ten years and shot thousands of couples, but I have never met anyone with more insane chemistry than you two."

I want to scoff out loud, but I force myself to hold a polite, frozen smile. Dominic does the same. We thank him again, and he finally walks off to check the monitors.

"Did you hear that?" Dominic asks, his voice laced with pure smugness.

I turn and pin him with a razor-sharp glare. "You didn't keep to our arrangement."

He opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off before he can even start.

"I want to go home," I say flatly, turning on my heel to march straight toward the dressing room before he can get another word in.

Twenty minutes later, we’re back in the luxury of the sedan, heading home.

Neither of us speaks a word. I keep my head turned toward the window, watching the city skyline blur past, while he sits beside me with his phone glued to his palm, a heavy, dark frown carved into his features.

The silence between us is thick and charged, still thrumming with the leftover tension from the studio.

Suddenly, Dominic’s phone buzzes with an incoming call. He answers it instantly, listening in complete silence for a few seconds before barking a quick, sharp command into the receiver.

"We're rerouting," he tells the driver, his voice cold and crisp. “Keane just called. He’ll text you an address.”

I turn to look at him, but he doesn't offer an explanation. Ten minutes later, the car pulls up in front of a looming, nondescript concrete building tucked away in an industrial quarter of the city.

Before I can even open my mouth to ask what on earth we're doing here, Dominic turns to me, his gaze unyielding. "Wait inside the vehicle, Rosalia. I won't be long."

Without waiting for my agreement, he steps out into the evening air, slamming the doors shut behind them.

I roll my eyes at his abrupt departure, crossing my arms over my chest as I watch his tall frame vanish through the building's entrance.

Minutes later, the driver turns around in his seat, looking apologetic. "Mrs. Kane, excuse me. Do you mind if I step away for a minute to relieve myself?"

"Go ahead," I say, waving him off.

Once he steps out, the silence inside the car wraps around me. Left entirely alone in the dim interior, a strange restlessness settles in my chest. Sitting still suddenly feels impossible.

Deciding I need a breath of fresh air, I pop the door open and step out onto the pavement, stretching my legs as I wander a few paces away from the vehicle.

The air is cool against my skin, but before I can take more than a few steps, a muffled sound drifts out from an open high-set window near the side of the building.

I freeze.

It’s a voice. It sounds undeniably like my husband—yet completely different from any way he has ever spoken to me. It carries a terrifying, razor-sharp edge—a cold, lethal quality that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

Driven by an irresistible wave of curiosity, my feet move before my brain can stop me. I creep closer to the shadowed side of the building, keeping low as I head toward the source of the voice.

What on earth is he doing in there?

CHAPTER NINE