Chapter 8
By six o'clock that evening, Vivienne knew she had only one card left to play.
She drove out to the gated entrance of the Valerio Estate. The iron gates opened silently as her car approached, as if her arrival had been anticipated for hours.
She walked up the wide stone steps of the estate, her crimson dress replaced by a sharp, minimalist grey suit. Her rosy skin was pale, her posture taut with anxiety.
The heavy double doors opened, and a butler led her through grand marble hallways into the dimly lit library.
Dominic sat behind his oak desk, reading a document. He didn't look up when she entered.
Vivienne stood in the center of the room, her heart hammering against her ribs. The arrogant socialite who had poured champagne over him twenty-four hours ago was nowhere to be seen.
"Dominic," she said, her voice dropping to a low, quiet tone. "I came to settle this."
Dominic turned a page in his file slowly. "There is nothing to settle, Vivienne."
"I made a mistake," she said, taking a step forward, her fingers trembling slightly. "I didn't know who you were. I thought you were just another unwanted guest trying to crash the VIP tables."
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Dominic finally raised his eyes. His gaze was so deep, so frighteningly still, that Vivienne felt her breath hitch in her throat.
"You didn't make a mistake about my identity, Vivienne," Dominic said softly. "You made a mistake about your own."
