A hint of annoyance flitted through my eyes before I could stop it.
"Someone you don't know," I replied flatly.
He unfastened the top button of his shirt with one hand, a gesture that in another context might have been casual but here, leaning over my hospital bed with that cold gaze bearing down, felt like a predator settling into a more comfortable position before the strike.
"Seraphina, how long do you plan to keep up this spoiled act?"
"I give you an inch and you want the whole mile?"
In the past, whenever he got angry, I'd rush to reflect on my mistakes, to soothe him, to fix things, to smooth the edges of his temper with apologies I had rehearsed so many times they no longer meant anything.
But now?
I simply pointed to his buzzing phone on the side table and said, without emotion, "It's Daniela."
The moment her name left my lips, Dominic's expression softened with a hint of a smile, the first warmth I had seen on his face in days, and it wasn't for me, and it had never been for me.