Dominic didn't usually notice when employees left early.
He didn't care what excuses they made—as long as the work was done.
But Isabella Romano wasn't like the others.
After she left, he stood by the window of his office, watching the street below. Her figure disappeared into the crowd too quickly, but the worry stayed.
She said she was fine.
But her eyes said otherwise.
He hated the way his stomach twisted at the memory of her trembling hands. The panic behind her smile. The faint smudge of fatigue beneath her eyes.
It was the same look he remembered from his mother's face, in the months before she died—bravely pretending nothing was wrong until it all fell apart.
You're not responsible for her, he told himself.
And yet, he picked up his phone.
"Ariana," he said. "I want to know where Isabella went this afternoon."
There was a pause. "Sir… is that appropriate?"
"Just find out."
Ten minutes later, Ariana returned with a post-it.
It simply read:
Dr. Emerson's OB/GYN Clinic – Park Avenue
Appointment scheduled: 2:00 p.m.
Dominic stared at the words.
His blood turned to ice.
OB/GYN?
His heart thudded once. Then again. Harder this time.
She hadn't said what the appointment was for—but there was only one kind of patient who went to that office.
He remembered the way she flinched when he asked personal questions. The way her hand always hovered protectively near her stomach. The faintness. The pale complexion. The skipped meals.
No.
It's not possible.
He stood abruptly, knocking over his chair.
She couldn't be—
No. That night at the gala had been almost a year ago. One night. A mistake. She'd vanished before morning.
But the timeline…
His breath caught.
Could she really have kept it from him all this time?
Isabella sat curled on her small apartment sofa, wrapped in a blanket, her untouched dinner on the coffee table. Her fingers rested lightly on her belly, still feeling the flutter of relief from hearing the heartbeat.
She was safe—for now.
But the lie was growing heavier.
She couldn't keep hiding forever. Sooner or later, the truth would come out. And when it did?
Would Dominic destroy her?
Or would he take the baby away?
The thought sent a wave of nausea crashing over her, worse than anything she'd felt so far. Not from the pregnancy.
From fear.
A knock startled her.
She froze.
Another knock. Firmer. Familiar.
She rose slowly and opened the door.
Dominic stood on her doorstep.
His shirt sleeves were rolled up, tie loosened, and his expression was unreadable—but his eyes…
They were burning.
"May I come in?"
She opened the door silently.
He stepped inside, glancing around the small apartment like it was a foreign planet. A far cry from the luxury of his world.
"How did you find me?" she whispered.
"I own the building," he said flatly. "It wasn't hard."
She folded her arms, instantly defensive. "What do you want?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he reached into his pocket and held out the post-it note Ariana had given him.
The name of her doctor stared up at her.
Isabella's heart stopped.
"I didn't ask Ariana to look into your schedule," he said softly. "I asked where you were."
Her throat was too tight to speak.
He stepped closer.
"Are you pregnant?"
Silence stretched.
Her lips parted. But no words came.
He wasn't angry. Not yet. But something far worse churned in his eyes—realization.
And under it… hurt.
She saw it the moment her silence answered his question.
His voice dropped to a whisper. "Is it mine?"
Her eyes filled with tears.
She wanted to lie. Wanted to protect herself. But her heart shattered at the raw, quiet devastation in his face.
So she whispered, "Yes."
The world seemed to stop.
Dominic inhaled, a sharp, ragged sound.
Then he turned away from her, like the ground had cracked beneath him—and for once, the Ice CEO didn't have a single word to say.