Dominic’s lips curled into something mocking. “And now you want to act like a victim? Don’t lie to yourself. You stayed because of Adrian’s heart. You wanted him close—even if it wasn’t really him. You used me just as much.”
My chest burned. “But you know it wasn’t like—”
“Eat your dinner,” he snapped, standing up. “I have other matters to deal with tonight.”
Before I could say another word, his phone rang.
He answered, and I caught the butler’s frantic voice through the speaker. “Sir Dominic, Miss Helena was injured. Her husband assaulted her. She’s been rushed to the hospital.”
Dominic’s color drained instantly. He didn’t explain. He didn’t look back.
He simply left.
The name echoed painfully in my head—Helena.
Six years ago, Helena had been Dominic’s fiancée. She left him the moment she learned about his heart condition, choosing a healthier, wealthier man instead. And in that same week, Adrian died.
Adrian and Dominic had been close since college—friends bound by years of shared memories, rivalry, and loyalty. That was why Adrian’s family agreed to the transplant. They believed they were honoring their son’s bond, allowing his heart to live on.