But before I could even swallow properly, Dominic rushed forward. His hand clamped around the back of my neck, fingers digging in as he forced my head forward.
"Spit it out!"
His voice cracked with something dangerously close to panic.
He forced my mouth open, making me spit out what I hadn't yet swallowed. The next second, a sharp slap landed across my face, loud and unforgiving, the impact sending my head snapping to the side as heat exploded across my cheek.
"Are you trying to die?!" he shouted, his voice trembling with fury. "You know you're allergic to mangoes! Dying once a day isn't enough for you?!"
The sting on my face pulsed, but I ignored it.
Instead, I forced myself to swallow whatever remained in my mouth, pushing it down despite the instinct screaming at me to stop.
His footsteps approached again, heavy and urgent.
I closed my eyes.
For a brief moment, everything felt still. The estate went quiet around us, the way it always did when Dominic's anger filled a room. Even the low hum of the surveillance feeds seemed to hold its breath.
Then, unexpectedly, his hand came up and cupped my face.
The touch was warm.
Familiar.