Submitting to my Ex Uncle-Chapter 217

Dominic walked into the orphanage hand in hand with Celeste.

The air inside was calm. The scent of soap and something faintly floral hung in the air. A child’s giggle echoed down the corridor and bounced off the painted walls.

One of the staff members gasped the moment she saw him. She was a small woman in her mid-forties. Her hair was tied neatly in a bun, with a name tag that read Mrs. Eloise. She pressed a hand to her chest in surprise, her eyes wide and bright.

"Sir, welcome," she said, half breathless. "We’ll prepare—"

"The kids," Dominic cut her off softly but firmly. "Where are they? I want to see them."

The woman blinked, startled by his directness, but quickly nodded. "Of course. They’re in the grand hall, sir. Please, follow me."

Celeste glanced up at him, her fingers still intertwined with his. She had been in many of his worlds before but never this one.

This was different. There was a quiet pull in his eyes now, a softness that fascinated her.

Mrs. Eloise pushed the grand polished wooden doors open.

Celeste froze.

The hall was alive. She didn’t know what she expected, but this was beautiful.

Children filled the space like sunlight. Some were gathered around a low table, piecing together a puzzle with furrowed brows. Others sat cross-legged on the floor, shouting excitedly at a board game.

A few lounged on bean bags watching a cartoon that filled the room with cheerful noise. Yet, at the farthest corner, a few sat quietly, lost in thought. Their bodies still, with their eyes betraying the small tremors of lives that had seen too much too early.

The moment Dominic stepped in, the atmosphere changed. Heads turned, and eyes widened.

The children’s laughter faltered, replaced by a stunned silence. Then, recognition hit them and their eyes immediately turned dreamy.

"Dominic!" one of the boys shouted.

"Sir Dominic’s here!" another voice echoed.

And just like that, the room erupted.

Tiny feet pounded the floor as they rushed toward him. Celeste’s heart leaped into her throat. There were too many of them. They came running in all directions, with their arms stretched out, their small faces lighting up with pure adoration.

Dominic barely had a moment to brace himself before the first wave of children collided with him.

"Careful—" Celeste gasped, taking a quick step forward. Worry flashed across her face. His injury wasn’t completely healed. She could still remember how pale he’d gone on their way here, when the pain had caught him off guard.

However, Dominic only laughed.

He knelt slowly to their level, ignoring the pull in his shoulder, and stretched his arms open wide.

"Come here," he said gently.

They came.

All of them. A wave of warmth and noise and little hands clutching at his jacket, his sleeves, and his neck. Dominic pulled as many as he could into his arms, wrapping them in an embrace that could have held the world together if he wanted it to.

Celeste could see the pain flicker across his expression for a heartbeat but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he smiled through it, pressing a kiss into one of the children’s hair.

Celeste stood frozen by the door, her hand hovering in the air.

She had seen Dominic powerful. She had seen him angry. She had seen a lot of his world but this was different. Different and new.

This was the man he didn’t show anyone.

The children’s laughter echoed around him. Their voices blended into something that made the air feel thicker, warmer. Dominic buried his face into one of their heads, breathing in slowly.

He shut his eyes and stayed that way for a moment — like he was grounding himself, like he needed to remember what this felt like. The scent of innocence. The sound of small hearts beating against his chest. The feel of soft hair brushing against his cheek.

He rubbed their heads gently, one by one, whispering their names like prayers.

Celeste swallowed hard, a strange lump forming in her throat. She wasn’t sure what moved her more — the way he looked at the children, or the way they looked back at him, like he was the safest thing they’d ever known.

Mrs. Eloise turned to Celeste, whispering softly, "They love him. Deeply. They don’t see him all the time, but they never forget him."

Celeste’s eyes snapped to the woman. She smiled. "I never thought he’d have this many kids."

Mrs. Eloise shook her head. "He doesn’t want cameras or headlines. He just wants to see them smile."

Celeste said nothing. Her gaze drifted back to Dominic, who was now sitting cross-legged on the floor. There was a child perched on each knee, two more hanging on his shoulders, and another tugging playfully at his tie. The sight was disarming. Almost too human for the man she thought she knew.

And then, something else caught her attention.

The place itself.

Everything about the orphanage was immaculate. The floors gleamed, the curtains were freshly washed, and the air smelled faintly of lemon and lavender. The children’s clothes were clean and fitted.

The walls were covered in paintings, handprints in bright colors, little scribbles of rainbows, and stars. There were books stacked neatly in corners, toys arranged in baskets, and even small plants on the window sills.

Celeste blinked. If someone had told her these were children from a wealthy family’s home, she might have believed it. There was not a trace of neglect anywhere. Only care and love.

She felt something warm tug at the edges of her chest.

Dominic finally pulled away from the embrace, slowly, reluctantly. He stood, straightening his jacket. The children still clung to his legs, smiling up at him.

There was a little girl at the corner of the room.

She wasn’t playing. She wasn’t watching the cartoon or the board games. She was just sitting quietly, with her small hands folded on her lap, and a smile tugging faintly at her lips.

She looked fragile. Almost translucent under the light that poured from the windows. Her eyes... her eyes were something else. They held a spark that didn’t belong to someone her age. A kind of grace, old and new all at once.

Dominic’s smile softened.

He reached for Celeste’s hand without looking away from the girl.

"That’s Ruby," he said quietly.

Celeste followed his gaze, and her breath caught in her throat.

Ruby wasn’t wearing a shirt. Her skin was pale, too pale, and small clear tubes ran across her stomach, connecting to a tiny pump at her side. Her hair was shaved clean, leaving only a soft shadow across her scalp. Yet, somehow, she was still smiling wide and brave and heartbreakingly alive.

Celeste’s fingers trembled slightly in Dominic’s grasp.

"She’s a cancer patient," Dominic said softly, his voice both proud and tender. "She’s my favorite fighter."

He smiled at Ruby, and she smiled back. Her smile was bright and knowing, and could disarm the cruelest world.

"I’m sure she wants to meet you," he added, squeezing Celeste’s hand gently. They moved towards Ruby.

Ruby’s lips moved. "Hi, Dominic," she said in a soft, careful voice that carried across the room. "You came back."

Dominic’s throat worked. "I told you I would, didn’t I?"

Ruby giggled. Her giggle sounded like a tiny bell. "You always keep your promises."

Celeste felt the tears before she could stop them.

Dominic stepped closer, guiding Celeste with him. He didn’t let go of her hand — as though he wanted her to see this part of him.

When they reached Ruby, Dominic crouched down again. The fabric of his suit brushed the floor. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small box wrapped with a yellow ribbon.

"I brought something for you," he said.

Ruby’s eyes widened. "Is it a book?"

Dominic chuckled. "Better."

He handed it to her carefully. Ruby opened the box with trembling hands, and gasped.

Inside was a tiny silver bracelet, shaped like a star.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

Ruby nodded so fast her tubes shifted. "It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen."

Celeste couldn’t breathe. Her chest ached with something too large to name. She had thought she knew Dominic and then, she realized she had never really known him at all.

He wasn’t just the man who built empires.

He was the man who built hope. He built them quietly, and piece by piece, in places no one saw.

Ruby slipped the bracelet onto her wrist and grinned. "Now I match the stars," she whispered.

Dominic reached out, brushing her cheek gently. "You’ve always been one," he said.

Ruby’s smile wobbled. "You think so?"

"I know so."