Submitting to my Ex Uncle-Chapter 194

The warehouse smelled of rust, oil, and the kind of damp rot that never left even after decades of being scrubbed clean. The air was heavy, stale, as though it remembered every cry that had ever bled into its walls.

Dominic’s stride was steady. His hand was firm around Celeste’s. She could feel the tension coiled in him.

She clung to his warmth, because the rest of the place was cold.

Ronan stood a few feet ahead. His frame was angled toward them. His expression was the same disgusted mask he always wore towards her.

His stance was casual, with his hands shoved into his pockets. Celeste knew enough now to recognize that beneath his stillness was a blade of attention, sharp and ready.

Around him stood a few of Dominic’s men. Their shoulders were squared, their expressions were blank, with the kind of blank that only came after seeing too much blood and not enough sleep.

Celeste’s gaze didn’t stop on them.

It stopped at the center.

The sight punched the air from her lungs.

A man, if she could still call him that, was bound against a slab of rock, stripped down to nothing but his briefs. His body was ruined.

His skin was torn open in jagged lines, with blood soaking every part of his muscles. One eye was swollen shut, puffed and purple, the other rolled weakly in its socket as though it had given up trying to stay alert.

Cuts crisscrossed his chest, his stomach, and his arms. Some were fresh, some were dried, and some were reopened. His lips were split, and swollen, with his jaw lopsided as though it had been broken once already.

He barely looked human anymore.

Celeste’s stomach revolted instantly. The metallic stench of blood clawed at her throat, and she slapped her hand to her mouth, her body folding on itself.

The bile rose fast to her throat. Hot and burning, and she swallowed hard against it, tears pricking her eyes. Her knees weakened beneath her.

Dominic’s grip tightened. Not painfully, not even firmly, but steady. He didn’t look at her, his hand was a silent command that she could either crumble or stand beside him. Either way, he’d still love her.

She chose to stand.

Ronan’s eyes flicked to hers. His expression remained cool, and detached. He showed slight emotion, but it passed too quickly for her to read.

Dominic released her hand.

The absence of his touch was immediate, and her palm twitched with the need to curl back around his. But he had already moved forward, swallowing the room with his presence.

The traitor groaned faintly. A wet sound lodged in his throat. His head tilted forward weakly, with blood dripping from his chin.

Dominic didn’t hesitate. He approached the man, his shadow spilling over the ruined man. With one gloved hand, he caught the man’s wrist. He stared at it for a beat. His knuckles flexed, and then....

Crack.

The sound shot through the air like a gunshot. Celeste flinched violently. Her breath got caught in her throat.

The man’s scream tore through the warehouse. Raw, and broken. Shaking the walls.

Celeste’s arms curled around herself before she realized she was moving. Her skin prickled with goosebumps, and a shiver crawled up her spine, biting into the back of her neck.

She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, as though she could chase away the tremors in her blood.

Dominic adjusted his grip. His movements were deliberate, patient, and unhurried. He caught the next finger. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

Snap.

The traitor howled.

Celeste’s heart thudded painfully. Her gaze flicked to Dominic’s face. She watched him, desperate for something, anything on his expression. However, what she saw rooted her in place.

He was calm. His expression was stone, and controlled, as though the screams were merely background noise. His hands worked with precision. There was no rage in him, only certainty.

Her chest burned with a strange, conflicting ache. There was a revulsion in her, and also horror, but also... understanding. This was who he was. The man who could be tenderness to her and terror to anyone who betrayed him.

Dominic let go of the mangled hand at last. The traitor sobbed brokenly. His body sagged against the restraints.

Dominic reached for the knife at his belt.

The blade slid free, catching the dim light and flashing dangerously.

Celeste’s throat tightened. Every nerve in her screamed to look away, to hide, to close her eyes and block it out.

But she didn’t.

She couldn’t.

Her eyes locked on him, her lungs burning with every breath as Dominic pressed the knife to the man’s torn hand. He slid the blade beneath the flesh of one finger. He moved slowly. The skin peeled back in strips, raw and wet, as the man’s scream shattered into ragged howls.

Celeste’s knees trembled. Her arms tightened around herself, as her nails bit her skin. Still, her gaze never wavered.

Dominic tilted his head, just slightly. His eyes flicked to hers, sharp, and watching.

"Never look away," he whispered, his knife still at work. "Not even from my worst."

Her lips parted, and her breath caught on the edge of a sob. The man’s screams broke her heart. She wanted to close her eyes, to run, to collapse against him and beg him to stop. But she didn’t. She stayed. Her gaze locked on his, with her chest rising and falling in frantic rhythm.

Even in his worst, Dominic didn’t hide from her.

Dominic’s eyes lingered on her. For just a moment, his grip softened on the knife. His free hand reached behind him, and brushed over hers where she clutched her own arm.

Her heart ached. Her body trembled. But she stood straighter, her eyes fixed on him, even as the man’s screams dug claws into her skull.

Dominic’s voice came again, quieter this time. "Good."

He was showing her the parts of himself he never let anyone see. The blood. The cruelty. The shadow that kept his empire standing.