I opened my mouth to respond, but Penelope quickly jumped in, pouting dramatically. "I'm sorry, Dominic. I just wanted some chips, so I tricked her into coming," she said, her voice dripping with superficial innocence.
Dominic's hard expression softened as he reached out, ruffling Penelope's hair affectionately. "You little munchkin," he muttered with a fond smile.
The fondness in his voice. The ease of the gesture. I catalogued it the way I'd catalogued a thousand moments like it over seven years, each one a small cut I'd trained myself not to bleed from. But tonight was different. Tonight I was already packed. Tonight I was already gone in every way that mattered.
Watching him, I knew this was my moment. I reached into my bag and pulled out the document I'd been carrying since morning. My formal severance of allegiance, typed on plain paper, stripped of any sentimentality.
"Dominic," I said, stepping forward, "one of my associates has a family emergency and needs to leave. I'll need you to sign off on this."
Technically, the family's internal operations handler should've processed it. But since it was me, the paperwork had been sent back to me directly. Even in bureaucracy, the Sloane household knew whose problems belonged to whom.
The lighting in the room was dim, casting shadows across Dominic's face. He didn't even glance at the letter as he scribbled his signature, his attention focused entirely on the birthday celebrant. The pen moved with the careless authority of a man who signed things that ended careers and began wars with the same flick of his wrist.
He didn't read it. He didn't read it because it came from me, and nothing that came from me had warranted his full attention in years.
Just as I was about to take the letter back, Dominic's hand shot out, grabbing mine. His expression shifted, his brow furrowing as he stared at my hand.
"You… You came here just for this?" he asked, his tone low and unreadable.
I nodded.
His face darkened again, and for a second, I thought he was going to say something. The silver lighter was nowhere in sight, both his hands occupied, one holding my wrist and the other frozen at his side. But then he flinched, pulling his hand back like he'd been burned.