Page 108 of Dial F for Finance
“Exactly,” Dominic says, his voice a low rumble of approval. “They’re covering their asses.”
Esteban leans forward, looking at me as if I’ve just translated an ancient text. “So how do we stop them from moving her?”
“We don’t argue that nothing went wrong; something did. We show them the risk can be managed without making separation the automatic solution.” I slip into negotiation mode. “We draft a proposed addendum to Dustin’s care plan. Then we offer to privately fund a security upgrade for the residential wing—particularly at any exits that provide access to the parking lot. It negates their liability argument without admitting fundamental fault, and it helps Hannah’s parents feel accommodated rather than attacked.”
Helena presses a hand to her heart. “You think that could work?”
“I can have the proposal drafted by 7:00 a.m.,” I state, already opening a blank document on my phone.
“No,” Dominic interjects, his tone leaving zero room for debate. He stands, pulling my chair back. “You can draft it after we’ve slept. The meeting isn’t until noon Thursday. We have all day to prepare. You don’t need to exhaust yourself this early into the battle.”
He has a point. Tactical fatigue is a real vulnerability.
After enduring another round of fiercely grateful hugs from his parents, Dominic laces his fingers through mine and guides me up the narrow stairs. We step into his childhood bedroom, the heavy wooden door clicking shut behind us.
“With you on our side, Round Hill won’t know what hit them,” he murmurs, pulling me against his chest in the dark.
I look up at him, the shadows of the room doing incredible things to the hard angles of his jaw. “Did I overstep down there? I know it’s your family’s dynamic, and I not only inserted myself but I also offered to spend your money on—”
“You’re my wife,” he interrupts, his voice a gravelly whisper. He crowds me against the solid wood of the door, his hands sliding down to grip my hips. “It’s our money. And you didn’t overstep. You were perfect. God, you were so fucking hot.”
His mouth crashes down on mine, hungry and desperate, swallowing my gasp and tasting like the tea and empanadas we just had.
“We never got to finish what we started back home,” he murmurs against my lips, his hands already sliding my blazer off my shoulders and tossing it carelessly to the floor.
A laugh escapes my throat, but I press a hand to his chest, slowing the moment. “Dominic. Your parents are right down the hall.”
He doesn’t stop, and I honestly don’t want him to. His fingers make quick, ruthless work of my cashmere sweater, pulling it over my head. He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses along my collarbone, working his way down my neck and everywhere he can reach.
“It’s OK, Jen,” he says, his breath scorching my skin as he backs me toward the mattress. “They know what married couples do in bed together.”
CHAPTER 29
Jenna
“—you can’t call it stealing,” Dustin says, pushing up from the couch so fast the cushion springs back behind him. “It was my dad’s car. I borrowed it.”
Hannah signs something at the same time. I haven’t learned enough to know exactly what she says, but I catch “fast” and “careful.”
Dustin points at her like she’s just proven his case.
“See? She agrees with me.”
Hannah’s mother exhales through her nose, already tired in a way that has nothing to do with the hour. “That is not what she said. She said you weren’t driving fast and you were very careful.”
“Exactly!” Dustin huffs.
Across the room, Dominic doesn’t move—but I feel the shift in him anyway, the subtle tightening at my waist where his hand rests like he’s anchoring himself to something solid.
“Dustin,” he says mildly, “you took Dad’s car without asking.”
“I had the keys. I borrowed it.”
“You can’t borrow things without permission,” Dominic says.
“And you don’t have a license,” Hannah’s father snaps. “You took our daughter. It was outright dangerous.”
Dustin opens his mouth, then closes it again like he’s trying to find a version of reality that will survive this meeting.
