Dominique asked, his voice laced with false concern. "Are you okay? You look a little... flushed."

Nicolas said, his voice slightly slurred. "I’m fine. Just a little tired."

Dominique tilted his head, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Tired? At your own party? That’s a shame. All that effort, and you can’t even enjoy it."

Nicolas shook his head again, the motion slow and unsteady. "Let’s go. I want to show you something."

Dominique tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. "Show me something? How intriguing. Is it a secret room? A hidden treasure? A collection of bad decisions? I do love a good mystery."

Nicolas didn’t answer. He was already walking, his steps unsteady, his hand gripping the wall for support.

Dominique followed, his eyes half-lidded, his movements slow and exaggerated. He swayed slightly, letting his smile become loose and unfocused. He looked like a man who had drunk too much, a perfect mask for his razor-sharp awareness.

Nicolas led him through the grand hall, past clusters of guests who glanced at them with curiosity. He stumbled once, nearly falling and Dominique caught his arm.

Dominique said, his voice smooth. "Careful. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself. That would be embarrassing."

Nicolas muttered something under his breath. Dominique didn’t catch it, but he was sure it wasn’t a compliment.

They reached a room at the end of the corridor. It was spacious and elegant, with a large balcony overlooking the gardens. The moonlight streamed through the windows, casting silver shadows across the floor. The air was cool and still, carrying the faint scent of night-blooming flowers.

Nicolas slumped against the wall, his breathing heavy, his chest rising and falling with labored effort.

Dominique said calmly, his voice coaxing. "Hazel. What was your plan with her? Tell me."

Nicolas looked up, his eyes unfocused. He blinked slowly, his mind struggling to process the question.

"Noo..." he slurred, his voice trailing off into incoherence.

Nicolas said, his voice broken and sad. "I’m sorry, Hazel. I’m so sorry."

Dominique leaned closer, his voice gentle but firm. "Sorry for what?"

Nicolas said, his voice trembling. "Th-e c-ar. The ca-r ca-r accident. I did it. I didn’t m-ean to hu-rt you that ba-dly, but yo-u reject-ed me. You rejec-ted me, an-d I could-n’t bear it."

Dominique’s eyes widened. His heart stopped.

Dominique asked, his voice low and cold, barely above a whisper. "You caused Hazel’s accident?"

Nicolas nodded, tears streaming down his face. "I wa-nted to hu-rt her. I wan-ted to mak-e her pay..pay... for rejecting me. I- i hi-red someone to hit her car. I didn’t know it wou-ld be tha-t bad. I didn’t m-ean for her to ge-t th-at scar. I just... I just wa-nted he-r to suffer."

Dominique stared at him, his anger building like a storm inside his chest.

Dominique asked, his voice cold. "What about tonight? What was your plan tonight?"

Nicolas shook his head, mumbling incoherently.

Dominique asked again, his voice sharper. "What was your plan?"

Nicolas mumbled something unintelligible, his words slurring together.

Dominique asked a third time, his voice hardening. "Tell me. What were you going to do?"

Nicolas’s head lolled to the side, his eyes fluttering.

Dominique grabbed his collar and shook him, his voice rising. "Tell me!"

Nicolas blinked, his eyes focusing for just a moment.

Dominique asked a fifth time, his voice cold as ice. "What was your plan tonight?"

Finally, Nicolas spoke.

"Make... mak-e him..." he slurred, his words barely audible.

Dominique demanded, his voice sharp. "Make him what?"

Nicolas said, his voice barely a whisper. "Mak-e him slee-p wit-h Isabella... and catch them... with Leo and Hazel... and the-n... I mar-rry Hazel."

Dominique’s blood ran cold.

His fist connected with Nicolas’s face with brutal force.

The impact sent Nicolas sprawling to the floor. He cried out, the pain sobering him instantly. He looked up, his eyes wide with shock and pain, his hand pressed to his bleeding nose.

Dominique shouted, his voice trembling with rage. "You fucking bastard!"

Nicolas scrambled backward, his hands sliding on the floor. "Stay away from me!"

Dominique stepped forward, his fists clenched at his sides.

Nicolas swung wildly, his fist connecting with Dominique’s jaw. The blow was hard, sending Dominique stumbling back. He tasted blood in his mouth, warm and metallic.

Dominique lunged forward, tackling Nicolas to the ground.

They rolled across the floor, fists flying, grunts and curses filling the room.

Dominique’s fist connected with Nicolas’s ribs. He heard a crack, followed by a pained gasp.

Nicolas’s knee drove into Dominique’s stomach, knocking the air from his lungs. Dominique doubled over, gasping.

Dominique grabbed Nicolas’s collar and slammed his head against the floor. The sound was sickening, a dull thud that seemed to shake the room.

Nicolas clawed at Dominique’s face, his nails raking across his cheek. Dominique felt the sting, the warm trickle of blood.

Dominique punched him again. And again and again.

Nicolas grabbed a broken piece of glass from a shattered vase and slashed at Dominique’s arm. Blood welled up instantly, staining his sleeve.

Dominique cried out but he didn’t stop. He grabbed Nicolas’s wrist and twisted until the glass fell from his hand.

They kept fighting, both of them bleeding, both of them bruised, both of them refusing to stop.

Dominique’s lip was split. His cheek was bleeding. His arm was slashed, the wound deep and painful.

Nicolas’s nose was broken. His ribs were cracked. His eye was swollen shut.

Finally, Dominique pinned Nicolas to the ground, his forearm pressed against his throat.

Dominique said, his voice low and cold. "You’re finished. Do you understand me? You’re finished."

Nicolas gasped, his eyes wide, his face pale. The words seemed to cut through the haze of the drug, momentarily sharpening his focus. He stared up at Dominique, his mind racing, his heart pounding.

Then his eyes fell on the broken glass near his hand.

A shard, jagged and sharp, glinting in the dim light of the room. His fingers twitched. The drug was still clouding his mind, making everything feel distant and unreal. But the instinct to survive, to fight back was stronger.