Chapter 115

Dominic didn’t flinch. His expression barely shifted, just the faintest tightening around his eyes, the kind that made people rethink their entire life in two seconds. His voice was cool, detached. “You’re the one who shoved your hand toward him. If your fingers can’t handle it, that’s not our problem.” The words were a clean mirror of what Avery had thrown at Sloane earlier, only now the world had decided she’d get a taste of her own cruelty. Avery’s outrage spiked. Her face went blotchy with pain and humiliation. She opened her mouth to argue. But her eyes rolled back before sound could escape. She collapsed in an ungraceful heap, unconscious. Dominic flicked his fingers once, and his men moved immediately, clearing the space with silent efficiency. Then his attention shifted to Sloane. “Lounge,” he said softly but firmly. “We’ll clean that up.” Sloane glanced at the faint cut on her wrist. It stung, sure, but she’d had worse. With a bit of rest, it would fade on its own. “It’s just