In his mind, after leaving the compound, Seraphina couldn't possibly have anywhere else to stay except the Rossetti family home. That crumbling monument to a name that no longer carried weight in any room that mattered.
One week later, late at night.
After finally wrapping up a territorial negotiation that had dragged on for days, Dominic returned to the Valente compound.
He walked into the living room, past the two soldiers posted at the foyer who straightened as he passed, only to see a slender, graceful figure curled up on the sofa in a silk nightgown, like a little shrimp.
"Seraphina, how many times have I told you, when I'm done working, I'll come back. There's no need for you to keep—"
His voice trailed off as he got closer and realized it wasn't Seraphina.
It was Daniela.
His mocking tone immediately vanished. The warmth drained from his face like water through a crack in stone.
Being stared at with such cold indifference, Daniela shivered. She looked pitiful and wronged, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Her hand moved to her stomach again, settling there with the timing of someone who had rehearsed the gesture a thousand times.
"Dominic... Seraphina hasn't returned for days."