?Chapter 10: The Weight of Fear

                                        

                                              
ARIA POV
Something wasn't right.
It wasn't just the tightness in her chest or the way her heart thudded louder than the baby's steady rhythm in her last appointment.
It was in the silence that followed.
In the way her body felt suddenly too heavy. In the way her eyes kept scanning corners of rooms that were already empty.
Since the hospital, sleep had become a war zone. She'd close her eyes and see shadows see Ezra's face. Sometimes smirking. Sometimes screaming.
Sometimes just... standing there, silent, watching her.
She didn't tell Dominic, Not at first.
Because how do you admit you're unraveling in a palace made of bulletproof glass?
How do you explain that you're terrified of a man who doesn't technically exist in your life anymore?
She tried to hide it. She smiled through breakfast. She made polite conversation with his staff. She even baked cookies one afternoon, half hoping the act of normalcy would erase the sense of dread crawling under her skin.
It didn't.
⸻
By the fourth night, her hands were trembling.
She stood in the bathroom, gripping the edge of the marble sink, trying to breathe through a stabbing cramp in her side.
Sharp. Low. Persistent.
She told herself it was nothing. Braxton Hicks, maybe. Stress.
Except her knees buckled.
She called for help. Or tried to. What came out was more like a whisper panicked, breathless.
And then suddenly, he was there.
Dominic.
Sweeping her into his arms like she weighed nothing, yelling for his driver, ignoring every protest as she clutched his shirt, breath jagged.
⸻
At the hospital, monitors beeped steadily, and nurses fluttered in and out like moths drawn to urgency.
"She's dehydrated," the doctor said. "Over-stressed. But the baby's okay for now."
For now.
Those two words cracked something in her.
She lay in the sterile bed, IV in her arm, tears slipping silently into her pillow as Dominic stood at the window, his phone in hand but his attention fixed solely on her.
After a while, he moved to her bedside. Sat. Stayed.
Said nothing.
And that silence was the only thing that made her feel safe.
Eventually, she looked up, her voice hoarse.
"Can I ask you something?"
His eyes met hers, still guarded. "You can ask."
"How did you know his name?"
A beat passed. Two.
She watched his jaw shift. The careful way he studied her face, like she might shatter if he answered wrong.
Finally, he exhaled. Low. Controlled.
"You said it in your sleep."
Her lips parted.
"What?"
"You've said it more than once. Ezra." His voice stayed even, but his eyes darkened. "You say it like a prayer... or a warning."
She blinked, throat tight. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"Because it frightened you."
There was no accusation in his tone. No judgment.
Just truth.
"I didn't know who he was," he continued. "But I guessed. Someone from your past. Someone who hurt you. It wasn't hard to figure out."
Her breath hitched.
"I never wanted you to know any of that."
"I already did," he said softly. "I just didn't know the details."
A long pause.
"I still don't," he added, "but I will. When you're ready."
She turned her face away, blinking fast.
"You don't owe me your 온라인카지노게임, Aria," he said. "But you do owe it to yourself to stop carrying it alone."
⸻
Later that night, back at the penthouse, Aria sat curled on the oversized couch, wrapped in one of Dominic's hoodies.
The baby kicked again soft this time, like a reminder.
Still here.
Still safe.
But in the corner of her vision, she thought she saw movement outside the window. A figure. A flicker.
She stood slowly. Moved toward the glass.
But when she opened the curtains there was nothing.
Just the city, glittering beneath the night.
And her reflection staring back at her, wide-eyed and unsure.