Chapter 78

Marissa, noticing Dominick's darkening mood, felt a secret thrill. To Alexis, she feigned nonchalance. "Maybe Nathaniel really wants to learn horseback riding?"

Alexis snorted. "Seriously? We're all just killing time, socializing. Nathaniel, that troublemaker, he's always messing around. Horseback riding? Who's fooling who?" Her gaze hardened, settling on Paisley. "And that woman? Probably just after a rich guy, pretending to play hard-to-get."

Marissa gasped, eyes wide. "Alexis!" Her words were for Alexis, but her eyes were on Dominick.

Alexis scoffed. "Oh, come on. I may not know that equestrian champion, but I know Nathaniel. We were all in high school together." The others nodded; they knew Nathaniel's history—a flirtatious past, with everyone except Marissa. Alexis's words carried weight.

Marissa, with innocent confusion, looked at Dominick. "Is that true?"

"Absolutely," Alexis declared, pointing. "Look! How close they are."

From their vantage point, Paisley seemed close to Nathaniel, her head tilted up as she spoke. He was charming, his usual playful self.

A wine glass crashed onto the marble counter. "I need air," Dominick said curtly to Julian, and left.

Marissa started to follow, but Julian stopped her. "Let him be."

Marissa bit her lip. She didn't want to lose this chance to be with Dominick—or to further the rift between him and Paisley—but she nodded. "Okay… I'm worried about him."

Confused murmurs rippled through the group. Alexis asked, "What's wrong with Dominick?"

Marissa pondered. "It scared me. It looked like I'd upset him, but I don't think I did anything."

She fell silent, a venomous glint appearing in her eyes as she looked at Paisley. Just how much longer are you going to interfere, Paisley? she thought.

The ballroom had two exits: the main entrance near the elevators, and a glass door leading to the garden. Dominick chose the garden. It was beautiful, lush by day, softly lit and tranquil at night. He stopped by a fountain, angrily loosening his tie. His chest heaved, his attempts at calming himself only intensifying his agitation. He replayed Nathaniel's cloying charm.

So this is it, huh, Paisley? Obsessed with pretty boys, even had a kid with one, and now this? Is it just looks you crave?

He touched his face, turning towards the fountain's reflection, barely visible in the dim light. He could only see the water's ripples.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered. "Paisley's moved on. What does it matter to me? He should be the angry one!"

A woman's voice broke his anger. "Hey, stop that. It tickles."

Dominick froze. He'd heard the sounds of intimacy; he wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but the man's voice stopped him cold.

"Then give me a kiss, and I'll stop," the man said.

Dominick's eyes narrowed. He recognized the voice—Paisley's "pretty boy." He glanced back at the ballroom; Paisley was still inside. If she's there, who's that woman with him?