Dominic’s POV
Therapy. He almost laughed when the word first came out of Dr. Meredith’s mouth like it was supposed to mean something other than defeat.
Dominic Hale didn’t do therapy. He did damage control, negotiations, litigation anything that involved control. Therapy wasn’t that. Therapy was surrender. Still, he showed up.
Every Tuesday at 9 a.m., he walked into a minimalist office with pale gray walls and a single plant that looked more alive than he felt. Dr. Meredith sat across from him, hands folded, patient, quiet. She didn’t ask him to talk about Elia, or Liana, or Z-Core. She just asked,
“What keeps you awake at night?”
At first, he gave her the corporate answer: “Work.”
By week three, he said, “Memory.”
By week five, he said nothing at all. Just sat there, fingers tappin
