?Chapter 376:


    The car filled with the thick scent of alcohol, oppressive and stifling.


    I frowned, rolling down the window to let the cool night breeze clear the air, offering some respite.


    Just as the fresh wind began to ease the heavy atmosphere, Dominic reached out and pulled me into his arms.


    Caught off guard, I fell against his chest. As I struggled to pull away, his hand gently traced my cheek, his eyes clouded with a strange mix of emotions.


    “My feelings for you… they’re bing something different,” he whispered, confusing me.


    I fought to get free, but he held me tightly, his hot, domineering lips pressing against mine, his tongue invading my mouth, consuming all of my groans and struggles. Panic surged through me as I twisted and turned with every ounce of strength I could muster, but it was like trying to escape a vice.


    The atmosphere inside the car was thick with tension, a storm waiting to break. Only when the vehicle rolled to a halt did Dominic’s iron grip finally loosen, though his hawk-like eyes never strayed from my face, intent on catching every flicker of emotion.


    With a casual strength that seemed effortless, Dominic scooped me up and carried me toward the entrance of my residence, his steps decisive and unyielding.


    “Your Highness, Makenna…” Lily appeared at the doorway, her voice tinged with concern after hearing the disturbance.


    Dominic swept past her without so much as a nce, his strides unbroken as he made for the stairs, leaving her standing there, unsure of what to do.


    He marched into my bedroom, his boot mming the door shut behind him with a force that echoed through the room. Before I could react, I was tossed onto the soft, inviting bed like a rag doll.


    Just as a scream began to rise in my throat, Dominic’s towering form loomed over me, a force of nature impossible to ignore.


    Your imagination thrives at  punt


    Dominic’s POV:


    I pinned Makenna beneath me, staring at her strikingly beautiful face.


    Her features, usually soft and enticing, were now hardened by a defiance that only stirred the bitterness festering in my chest. Those stubborn, aggrieved eyes of hers—how they seemed to pull at feelings I had tried to bury, like frost melting in the warmth of early spring.


    I found myself wondering, in a rare moment of vulnerability, if I was truly falling for this obstinate woman.


    What was I supposed to do with her? My throat felt like it was closing up, my voice trembling as I asked, “Makenna, are you really so against being with me?”


    Her response was immediate, resolute. She turned her head away from me, the movement so sharp and deliberate that it cut like a knife. It was as if she refused to even acknowledge my existence.


    “It’s not about wanting or not wanting,” she said, her voice colder than ice. “I don’t have a choice.”


    Her words pierced through me, like an unseen force tightening its grip around my heart.


    Why did she resist me so much? What was it about me that drove her to this edge of disdain?


    Unable to bear her cold indifference any longer, I impulsively grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze.


    But what I saw in her eyes was not the warmth I craved. Her stare was distant, cold, and hollowpletely void of the joy she disyed whenever yton entered the picture.


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