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.