CHAPTER 7- A WOMAN'S INSTINCT

The doorbell rang just as Luca finally drifted off.

I checked the camera on my phone — eyes closed, fists loosened, fully gone, and crossed the apartment before the bell could ring again.

Nina swept in with two shopping bags and enough energy to power the building.

"Tell me you haven't been crying."

"Hello to you too."

"I'm serious." She shut the door and looked me over. "You look tired."

"I have a four-month-old."

"You look emotionally tired."

"There's a difference?"

"A huge one. One requires sleep. The other requires therapy and possibly violence."

She dropped the bags on the island and started pulling out containers. "I brought food because I know you forgot lunch again."

"I had lunch."

"When?"

I opened my mouth, then closed it.

Nina pointed at me, triumphant, and I laughed — the first real laugh all day. We'd known each other since university.

Loud, opinionated, completely incapable of minding her own business. That combination had saved me more times than I could count.

We talked about nothing for a while — work, old classmates, a professor she still hated a decade later. It felt normal and easy.

Then Nina stopped chewing mid-bite. Her eyes flicked toward the hallway.

"What?" I followed her gaze.

Celeste had appeared — cream trousers, black silk blouse, dark hair in a sleek ponytail, looking like she'd stepped out of an advert.

"Nina, this is Celeste."

Celeste's smile arrived instantly. "You're Nina."

"You know me?"

"Dominic mentioned you."

Something shifted across Nina's face — not surprise. Filing something away.

"Oh." Her smile turned politely neutral. "Interesting."

They shook hands. Nothing rude was said. And yet the air in the room changed anyway — the way it does right before weather arrives.

Celeste glanced toward the nursery. "How's little Luca today?"

"Good. He just fell asleep."

"That's wonderful." She glanced toward the entrance. "Dominic should be home soon. He mentioned an important meeting — he was worried it might run late."

I froze. "He did?"

"Yes. We've been coordinating merger documents, we've spoken several times today."

It sounded reasonable. Dominic hadn't called me. Not once.

Nina set her fork down — just slightly. "So you've spoken to him a lot today?"

"Several times." Celeste smiled and excused herself toward the stairs.

The second she was gone, Nina turned on me.

"What is her problem?"

"Nina—"

"Don't “Nina” me." She pointed at the staircase. "What's actually going on here?"

"She's staying temporarily. She works with Dominic. That's it."

Nina folded her arms. "You want the honest answer? I don't like her."

"You met her three minutes ago."

"Three minutes was enough." She leaned forward. "Some people walk into a room trying to make others comfortable. Some people walk into a room trying to figure out who matters."

She tilted her head toward the stairs. "She's the second kind."

"You sound ridiculous."

"Maybe. Answer one question." Her eyes held mine. "Do you feel comfortable around her?"

I felt watched and measured. Like something being studied through glass.

But saying that out loud felt unhinged. So I shrugged. "I don't know."

Nina nodded slowly. "That's what worries me."

Dominic got home that evening with Luca already awake on my lap.

The second the door opened, Luca's whole face lit up — arms shooting forward, a delighted squeal.

"Dada."

Not a real word. Just a sound, full of pure joy. But it lifted something in my chest anyway.

Dominic barely looked over. He was loosening his tie with one hand, phone in the other.

"Long day."

"Welcome home."

"Thanks."

Luca reached again, straining forward with everything he had.

Dominic glanced over — half a second, and went back to typing.

Something twisted in my chest, sharp and familiar by now. Not cruelty. This was quieter and worse — indifference, the kind that slides past you like you're part of the furniture.

Celeste came in a moment later, and Dominic's whole face changed. Not dramatically. Not enough for anyone else to catch.

But I caught it. I always caught it now.

"Did legal approve the revisions?" she asked.

"They did. Finance had concerns."

"Section four?"

"Exactly."

Ten minutes disappeared — fast, fluent, the two of them finishing each other's sentences while I sat there on the sofa with our son in my arms.

Invisible.

Again.

By ten-thirty the penthouse had gone quiet. Dominic was in his office. Celeste was somewhere upstairs. Luca was deeply asleep.

I sat on the couch with the baby monitor glowing and a book I never opened. Nina's question kept looping in my head. “Do you feel comfortable around her?”

No. And finally letting myself say it — even just internally, landed heavier than I expected. I had spent weeks convincing myself I was imagining things.

And every time I voiced even a fraction of a concern, Dominic made me feel like the irrational one.

Midnight came, then half past. Eventually I got up. Just for water.

The marble floor was cool under my bare feet as I moved down the dark hallway toward the kitchen, the apartment silent except for the faint hum of the city below.

Then I saw movement.

I stopped dead.

The door to Dominic's office had just opened — and Celeste stepped out, one hand smoothing down the front of her blouse.

For a second neither of us moved. The door clicked shut behind her.

She looked surprised to see me. Then she smiled.

"Amara."

The hallway suddenly felt too narrow. Too quiet.

"It's late," I said.

"Yes." She smoothed her blouse again. "We lost track of time."

"We?"

"Dominic and I."

Something cold slid down my spine. The office light was off now — which meant he was still in there, in the dark, or he'd just switched it off, or—

I didn't know. And not knowing felt worse than anything she could have said outright.

Celeste tilted her head, gentle, almost kind. "You should get some rest."

I just stared at her. Neither of us said anything.

Then she smiled again — that same polished, unreadable smile, the one that never quite reached her eyes — and walked off toward the guest wing.

I stood alone in the hallway, staring at the office door. Wondering why a business meeting had run past midnight.

Wondering why he hadn't mentioned it — not once, all day.

Wondering why my instincts were suddenly louder than every excuse I'd built for him.

Then the office door opened. And Dominic stepped out.