A thick silence followed, pressing down on the room. The kind of silence that lived inside the walls of the Bellandi estate, where even the guards outside the door knew when to stop breathing. It lingered, uncomfortable and heavy, until Celeste suddenly broke it, her tone turning light again, almost playful.
"Is this mango fresh?"
The shift was so abrupt it felt unreal.
As I stepped out of the room, my movements slow and steady despite the weakness still clinging to my body, she walked toward me, holding the fruit out with a soft, sweet smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Her smile appeared half a beat too quickly, then vanished just as fast when she remembered she was supposed to look concerned.
"Could you taste it for me, Serafina?" she asked gently. "I'm pregnant, so I can only eat fresh ones."
Her voice was syrupy, coated in false innocence.
Dominic's chest rose and fell visibly as his eyes landed on my pale lips. For a fleeting second, something flickered across his face.
He remembered.
I'm deathly allergic to mangoes.
Today had already been chaotic, messy, out of control. I could see the hesitation in his posture, the slight tightening of his jaw. His signet ring turned once along his knuckle. He was just about to stop her, just about to say something.
But I didn't give him the chance.
Without a moment's pause, I reached out, grabbed the mango from her hand, and shoved the entire fruit into my mouth.
The motion was sudden, almost violent.
Juice burst between my teeth as I bit down hard, spilling from the corners of my lips, sticky and sweet as it ran down my chin. I chewed desperately, swallowing the taste that would soon turn into poison.
Perfect.
This should be the last death.
Finally.
Relief, faint but real, flickered through me.
But before I could even swallow properly, Dominic rushed forward. His hand clamped around the back of my neck, fingers digging in as he forced my head forward.
"Spit it out!"
His voice cracked with something dangerously close to panic.
He forced my mouth open, making me spit out what I hadn't yet swallowed. The next second, a sharp slap landed across my face, loud and unforgiving, the impact sending my head snapping to the side as heat exploded across my cheek.
"Are you trying to die?!" he shouted, his voice trembling with fury. "You know you're allergic to mangoes! Dying once a day isn't enough for you?!"
The sting on my face pulsed, but I ignored it.
Instead, I forced myself to swallow whatever remained in my mouth, pushing it down despite the instinct screaming at me to stop.
His footsteps approached again, heavy and urgent.
I closed my eyes.
For a brief moment, everything felt still. The estate went quiet around us, the way it always did when Dominic's anger filled a room. Even the low hum of the surveillance feeds seemed to hold its breath.
Then, unexpectedly, his hand came up and cupped my face.
The touch was warm.
Familiar.
His voice dropped, losing its sharp edge, softening into something that almost sounded like the past.
"Spit it out."
But it was already too late.
A sudden wave of suffocation surged up my throat, violent and overwhelming. My chest tightened as if an invisible hand had wrapped around my lungs, squeezing the air out of them. I gasped, my body instinctively fighting for oxygen, my fingers clawing weakly at his sleeve.
The world tilted.
My breathing grew shallow, broken.
At that exact moment, Celeste suddenly gagged.
Loudly.
The sound cut through everything.
The second Dominic heard it, his grip on me vanished. Without hesitation, he let go and turned toward her, panic flashing across his face.
"This mango tastes awful…" she whined, her voice trembling.
The house steward rushed in, took one look at me, and his face turned deathly pale.
"The Signora is allergic!" he exclaimed urgently. "Call the family surgeon!"
Dominic hesitated.
Just for two seconds.
Two seconds where his gaze flickered between us.
Then he made his choice.
He swept Celeste into his arms, holding her close as if she might break.
"Take care of Celeste first," he ordered quickly.
Then, turning to the others, his voice hardened again, cold and commanding. The voice of the Bellandi heir who gave orders that no one in the household questioned.
"To the rest of you, cover the Signora's mouth and lock her in the bathroom. I don't want even the scent of mango near Celeste."
The house steward stood frozen, clearly overwhelmed, sweat forming along his brow.
But I didn't wait.
I pushed myself upright, my body swaying as dizziness washed over me. Leaning against the wall for support, I forced one step after another, dragging myself toward the bathroom. My thumb pressed against the pulse in my inner wrist. Still there. Still beating.
