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.
Still refusing to stop.
Each breath burned.
Each step felt heavier than the last.