Chapter 4

If there was an Academy Award for "Acting Like Your Life Isn't a Dumpster Fire," I would have a golden statue on my mantelpiece right now.

I stepped out of the restroom with my chin held high, my spine straight, and the plastic evidence of my impending doom tucked into the hidden pocket of my clutch. My heart was thundering so loudly I was surprised Jade couldn't hear it. I felt like I was carrying a live grenade.

"Finally," Jade hissed, grabbing my arm. "You look less like a ghost and more like a Victorian waif who’s about to faint. Dominic is pacing the hallway. I think he’s already intimidated three museum donors and a waiter."

"He has that effect on people," I muttered. "It’s his only personality trait."

We rounded the corner, and there he was. Dominic was leaning against a marble pillar, his arms crossed over his chest. The tuxedo made him look broader, more imposing, and entirely too much like the master of the universe. When he saw me, his eyes narrowed, scanning me from head to toe with a precision that made me feel naked.

"You’re leaving," he said. It wasn't a suggestion.

"Hello to you too, Dominic. And no, I’m going back to the party. Jax is waiting for me to finish our conversation about liver enzymes."

Dominic stepped into my path, cutting off my exit. "Your 'athlete' is currently busy explaining his follower count to a group of bored heiresses. You, on the other hand, are one step away from hitting the floor. You haven't touched a drop of champagne all night, Seraphina. I’ve been watching you."

"Of course you have. Do you have a spreadsheet for my hydration levels too?" I forced a sharp, brittle laugh. "I’m not fainting. I’m just allergic to your presence. It’s a very specific reaction—hives, nausea, and an overwhelming urge to move to another continent."

"Enough," he growled. He turned to Jade. "Tell her date she’s had a dizzy spell and I’m taking her home."

"I can speak for myself!" I protested, but Dominic’s hand was already firmly on the small of my back, guiding—or rather, propelling—me toward the exit.

The car ride was a masterclass in atmospheric pressure. We sat in the back of his midnight-black sedan, the partition up, the city lights blurring past the windows like streaks of neon paint. Dominic sat perfectly still, but I could feel his gaze on me. It was heavy and inquisitive. He was a man who solved problems for a living, and right now, I was a puzzle he couldn't quite fit together.

"Why are you doing this, Dominic?" I asked, staring out the window. "We’re divorced. You made me sign a paper to prove it. You should be happy I’m out of your hair."

"The papers haven't cleared the court system yet," he said, his voice smooth and dangerous. "Technically, you are still a Thorne. And as long as you carry that name, you are a Thorne 'investment.' I don't like seeing my investments looking like they’re about to collapse in public."

"An investment," I whispered, the word tasting like ash. "Is that all I was? A line item on your balance sheet?"

"Don't get emotional, Seraphina. It doesn't suit the dress."

When the car pulled up to my new apartment building—a charming brownstone that was a far cry from his glass-and-steel fortress—I didn't wait for the driver. I scrambled out, desperate for air that didn't smell like him.

"Goodnight, Dominic. Try not to sue anyone on your way home."

I marched up the stairs to my second-floor unit, fumbling with my keys. I could hear his heavy footsteps behind me. He wasn't leaving. He followed me right through the front door before I could slam it.

"Get out," I said, turning to face him in my small, pink-accented living room.

Dominic looked around the space with an expression of pure disdain. He looked at my velvet sofa, my mismatched art frames, and the stack of books on the coffee table. He looked like an apex predator who had accidentally wandered into a dollhouse.

"This place is a fire hazard," he remarked, walking toward the center of the room.

"This place is mine," I countered, throwing my clutch onto the sofa. "It’s messy, it’s loud, and it’s full of life. Everything your penthouse isn't. Now, why are you really here? You don't care about 'investments' at eleven o'clock on a Tuesday."

He turned to me, his amber eyes flashing with a sudden, sharp heat. "I’m here because you’re lying to me. You’ve been lying to me since you woke up in my bed three weeks ago. You walked out of there acting like it was nothing, and tonight you’re acting like I’m a stranger."

"Because you are a stranger! You’re the man who gave me a legal document instead of breakfast!"

I marched up to him, poking a finger into his rock-hard chest. "You don't get to be the jealous ex-husband. You don't get to show up and act like you care about my health. You wanted out, Dominic. You got out. So leave!"

"I can't," he barked, grabbing my hand. He pulled me toward him, and suddenly the space between us disappeared.

The air in the room felt like it was vibrating. His heart was thudding against my knuckles, fast and rhythmic. For a second, the anger shifted. It transformed into that dark, magnetic pull that had kept me trapped in his orbit for three years. He leaned down, his nose brushing mine, his breath hitching.

"I can't leave because every time I look at you, I want to tear that dress off and remind you exactly whose name you’re still wearing," he whispered.

My heart stopped. My body wanted to lean in. It wanted to surrender. But then, I felt it—a tiny, sharp cramp in my stomach. A reminder.

I wasn't just Sera anymore. I was a vessel for the one thing that would link me to this man forever if he found out. If he knew about the baby, he wouldn't just be a jealous ex. He would be a warden. He would take the child, he would take my freedom, and he would turn my life back into a Thorne "investment."

I shoved him back with all the strength I had. "No!"

Dominic stumbled back, looking genuinely shocked. He stared at me, his chest heaving, his pupils blown wide.

"Get out of my house, Dominic. Right now. Or I’m calling the police and telling them you’re trespassing."

He straightened his tie, his expression shuttering instantly. The man of marble was back. The heat vanished, replaced by a frost so thick it felt like the room had frozen over.

"Fine," he said, his voice tight. "Enjoy your 'life,' Seraphina. Just don't come crying to me when your little rebellion turns into a mid-life crisis."

He turned on his heel and strode toward the door. I watched him go, my hand trembling as I reached for the back of a chair to steady myself.

He’s gone, I thought. The secret is safe.

Dominic opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. But as he did, his foot caught on something. He paused, looking down at the floorboards just outside my threshold.

I froze.

I remembered the pharmacy bag. I remembered how I’d been shaking when I came home earlier that afternoon, trying to hide the evidence before Jade arrived to help me get ready for the gala.

Dominic reached down and picked up a small, crumpled slip of thermal paper that had fallen out of my coat pocket when I’d entered the apartment earlier. He smoothed it out with his thumb.

I couldn't see the paper, but I knew what it said.

CVS Pharmacy. Store #4291. ClearBlue Digital Twin-Pack. $24.99.

Dominic stared at the receipt for a long, agonizing beat. He didn't turn around. He didn't say a word. He just folded the paper, tucked it into his tuxedo pocket, and walked away.

The sound of his footsteps fading down the stairs was the most terrifying thing I had ever heard.