He barked at the housekeeper to call the Family's private physician. The lighter had gone still in his pocket. His hands were occupied now, both of them cradling a woman who was not his wife.
The urgency in his voice made everyone look at me with mocking eyes. The soldiers. The staff. Every person in that house who answered to the Valente name.
And honestly, I found it laughable as well.
Last night, when I had a heart attack, Dominic was on his way out to stargaze with Daniela at the vineyard overlook.
Even as I collapsed, frothing at the mouth on the living room floor, he didn't flinch. Just stepped right over me, adjusting his cufflinks as he passed.
Before I blacked out, I heard him tell the housekeeper, "Disinfect the whole living room. Daniela is coming home tomorrow. I don't want her to smell anything foul."
Gripping the handle of my suitcase, I turned to leave again.
But he grabbed my wrist, his grip the kind of force that had ended negotiations and broken lesser men. He stared at me coldly. "Apologize."
"Wha—"
Before I could even speak, he yanked me down, forcing me to kneel in front of Daniela on the cold marble.