Dominic’s POV
Anna was lying. The moment she leaned against the kitchen island and told me she wasn’t feeling well, I knew. Her voice was too soft, too careful—like each word had been weighed and measured before it left her lips. She couldn’t even look me in the eyes, and that wasn’t like her. Not the Anna I remembered. She was always direct, sometimes brutally so, never hiding behind pleasantries. But this morning, there was something else underneath the surface—fear, hesitation, maybe guilt.
When I offered to call my private physician, Dr. Ortega, her reaction was instantaneous and unconvincing. A rushed, too-sharp "no," followed by an awkward recovery. Anna wasn’t the kind of woman who refused medical help when she needed it. She was practical, especially now with everything on the li
