POV: Dominic
I didn't come to this pathetic excuse for a party to have my nephew's eighteen-year-old ex-girlfriend choose me for a kissing game.
I came because Marcus called at 7 PM, voice tight with that familiar blend of anger and desperation.
Tyler's throwing another party at Eclipse. Page Six is already circling. Just go make sure he doesn't destroy the family name again.
He's your son, Marcus. Not my responsibility.
You're a Sterling. His scandals affect your fund too.
The invisible leash they'd used to control me for thirty-five years: You're a Sterling. Never mind that they'd spent decades making sure I knew I was the wrong kind of Sterling.
So I went. Watched Tyler get drunk and paw at his girlfriend. Watched his friends pass around drugs and bottles worth more than most people's rent.
I was planning to leave after an hour.
Then the dare happened.
Then this girl, Sienna Cross—walked straight toward me with fury and heartbreak in her eyes and chose me.
Every instinct screamed to refuse. To be the adult.
But when Tyler started screaming You can't choose him, he's not even part of the game, something vicious woke up inside me.
Not part of the game. The story of my entire life.
Seven minutes, I heard myself say. Let's make them count.
In that dark coat room, she should have been terrified. Should have realized what she'd done and run.
Instead, she challenged me. Stood her ground. Demanded I teach her how to stop being weak.
And when I kissed her, God help me, when I kissed her, she kissed back like she was burning her old life to the ground and using me as the match.
I'd meant it to be a lesson. A moment of madness that would scare her back to safety.
Instead, it became the most genuine thing I'd felt in years.
Now, hours later, I sat in my penthouse overlooking Central Park, knuckles white on my whiskey glass.
I'd just kissed my nephew's eighteen-year-old ex-girlfriend.
This could destroy everything I'd built.
My phone buzzed. James: Tell me those videos aren't real.
They're real.
I called him back. He answered immediately.
Dom, she's eighteen. Tyler's ex. This is a PR nightmare.
I know.
Then why He stopped. You wanted to hurt Tyler.
No. I stood, pacing to the windows. I wanted to save her from becoming what I was at her age—desperate for approval from people who'll never give it.
Long pause. You like her.
She's a child.
She's legal. And from what I saw in those videos, she didn't look like a child. She looked like a woman who knew exactly what she wanted.
It was one kiss. A mistake. I'm sending her a message tomorrow telling her to stay away.
Are you?
I opened my messages. Started typing: Last night was a mistake. Do not contact me again.
Deleted it.
Tried again: What happened was inappropriate. For both our sakes, we should forget it happened.
Deleted it.
What I actually sent: You were right. That wasn't enough. If you want to learn how to stop being weak, meet me tomorrow. 2 PM. The bookstore on 12th and Broadway. Come alone. —DS
James groaned. You're not staying away from her, are you?
I'm mentoring her. Legitimately. She's brilliant—did you see her debate Tyler? She's wasted in his shadow.
And you think you can just mentor her? After that kiss?
It won't happen again.
Right. Because you have such excellent self-control around her. James's voice softened. Dom, I've known you for fifteen years. I've never seen you lose control. But that girl? She makes you reckless.
Which is exactly why this stays professional. Mentorship only.
And when she wants more?
She's eighteen. She doesn't know what she wants.
I think she knows exactly what she wants. And it's you.
After I hung up, I poured another drink and tried to convince myself James was wrong.
At 2 AM, I opened her message thread. Just to see if she'd responded.
She had: I'll be there.
I should have told her not to come. Should have ended this before it started.
Instead, I texted: Good. Don't be late.
Her response was immediate: Thinking.
About?
Whether I'm making a huge mistake.
I stared at those words, seeing my own thoughts reflected back.
You are. But the best things in life usually are. See you at 2 PM. Don't chicken out.
What the hell was I doing?
The next day, I stood outside the Strand bookstore at 1:50 PM, telling myself this was purely professional.
Then Sienna appeared at exactly 2 PM, jeans, sweater, sneakers. No makeup. Hair pulled back. Looking young and beautiful and absolutely forbidden.
She stopped when she saw me. You came.
So did you.
For a moment, we just stared at each other. Then I made a decision that would change both our lives.
Get in the car. We need to talk somewhere private.
She climbed into the back seat without hesitation. Brave or reckless, I couldn't tell which.
Where are we going? she asked as we pulled away.
Central Park. The Ramble. Quiet this time of day.
Sounds like you're planning a murder.
I almost smiled. If I wanted you dead, there are easier ways.
Not comforting.
It wasn't meant to be. I turned to face her. I need to know—was last night just revenge? Or do you actually want what you said you wanted?
Which was?
To stop being weak. To learn power. I leaned closer. Because if you're wasting my time, tell me now. I don't do games, Sienna. I don't do drama. And I don't do eighteen-year-old girls who kiss me for revenge and expect me to fix their lives.
Her eyes flashed. I never asked you to fix anything.
Then what do you call showing up today?
Following through! You texted me. You told me to come. So don't act like I'm chasing you when you gave me your number!
I laughed—couldn't help it. You're right. I did test you. And you passed.
What test?
I wanted to see if you had the courage to show up. Most people would have deleted my message and pretended last night never happened.
I'm not most people.
No. You're not. The car stopped at the park entrance. Let's walk.
In the Ramble, quiet, isolated, private, I told her things I'd never told anyone. About being the bastard son. About building my empire from nothing. About learning that being good enough wasn't enough when you were born wrong.
She listened without interrupting. Without pitying.
Why are you telling me this? she finally asked.
Because I recognize that look in your eyes. I stopped walking, facing her. The one that says you're ready to burn everything down to prove you're more than they think. I've lived that path. It's brutal. Lonely. And it requires becoming someone who doesn't need anyone.
Maybe that's exactly who I need to be.
My hand came up without permission, tucking hair behind her ear. Or maybe you just need to stop giving power to people who don't deserve it.
How do I do that?
You already started. Last night, choosing me over Tyler—that was you choosing yourself. My hand dropped. But I need to know: are you ready to actually do the work?
What work?
Becoming undeniable. I held her gaze. I can teach you how to navigate their world, how to beat them at their own games, how to build something they can't touch. But it won't be easy.
Why would you do that for me?
Because you remind me of myself at your age. And because that kiss last night— I stopped myself.
What about it?
It was a mistake. You're eighteen. I'm thirty-five.
But?
I stepped closer, backing her against a tree. But I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. And that makes you dangerous.
Dangerous how?
My hand pressed against the tree beside her head. Because I don't do distractions. I've spent years building walls. And you walked into my life for seven minutes and made me want to tear them down.
She couldn't breathe. Neither could I.
What are you saying?
I'm saying if we do this, if I mentor you, we have rules. No relationship. No romance. This is about making you powerful, not about us.
And if I want more?
You're eighteen. You don't know what you want yet.
She pushed against my chest. Don't treat me like a child. Stop telling me I don't know my own mind.
You're right. I caught her wrist. So what do you want, Sienna? Really want?
I want to stop being invisible. I want to matter. And I want She hesitated.
What?
I want you to kiss me again.
Every rational thought in my head screamed no.
My body didn't care.
I pulled her close, one hand in her hair, and kissed her like I was claiming something I had no right to claim.
She melted against me, hands fisting in my jacket, kissing back with that same desperate hunger from last night.
This was wrong. Forbidden. Dangerous.
This was inevitable.
When I finally pulled back, we were both shaking.
This can't happen, I said, even as my hands refused to let her go.
Why not?
Because you're eighteen and I'm thirty-five and this will destroy us both.
I don't care.
You should. I forced myself to step back. Here's what happens now. I'll mentor you. Legitimately. Teach you about finance, business, how to survive in their world.
And last night?
Last night was a mistake that doesn't get repeated.
She flinched, but nodded. Fine. Mentor me then.
We walked back to the car in silence. But before she got in, I caught her wrist.
Sienna. Once you step into my world, there's no going back. Are you sure?
She met my eyes without fear. I'm sure.
Then welcome to war.
As the car drove her home, I sat back and tried to convince myself I could do this. Could mentor her without wanting her. Could teach her without touching her.
Could resist Sienna Cross.
My phone buzzed. Unknown number. A video attachment.
I opened it.
Footage from last night—me and Sienna emerging from that coat room. The caption: Sterling family scandal: Dominic Sterling seduces nephew's teenage girlfriend. Full story breaking tomorrow.
My blood went cold.
I called James immediately. We have a problem.
I saw. It's already on three gossip sites. By tomorrow, it'll be everywhere.
Tyler?
Or your family. Does it matter? The damage is done.
I looked at Sienna's contact in my phone. She didn't know yet. Didn't know that by tomorrow, her life would be destroyed.
I should have stayed away. Should have said no in that coat room.
But I hadn't.
And now we'd both pay the price.