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I'd just reached the top of the stairs when Isobel caught up and grabbed my sleeve.

Dante was still back down the hall, out of earshot. Isobel's face dropped the mask.

"Nina. How does it feel? Watching your fiancé father another woman's child."

I wasn't interested. I shook her off and turned to go.

But the second I pulled my arm away, she tilted—off-balance—and started falling toward the stairs.

Pure reflex. I lunged forward and caught her.

Before I could let go, Dante's voice cracked through the air behind me.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Isobel's expression snapped into place instantly. Red-rimmed eyes. Hands cradling her stomach.

"Dante, I was just trying to thank her for being so gracious—I didn't think she'd—"

Dante's face went dark.

"Nina. I didn't think you were this kind of person."

"Apologize to Isobel. Now."

I actually laughed.

"Apologize? Go pull the security footage. See who's lying."

His brows drew together. He didn't believe me. "Isobel's sick. She's pregnant. You really think she'd deliberately fall down a flight of stairs?"

A flicker of alarm crossed Isobel's face. She knew exactly what the cameras would show. She went soft and miserable in an instant.

"Forget it, Dante. Nina's upset. It's understandable. Let's go."

Dante's face shifted immediately. He wrapped his arms around her and steered her out.

That night, he didn't come home.

I figured he was too busy watching over his precious "unstable" Isobel.