"Could you taste it for me, Serafina?" she asked gently. "I'm pregnant, so I can only eat fresh ones."
Her voice was syrupy, coated in false innocence.
Dominic's chest rose and fell visibly as his eyes landed on my pale lips. For a fleeting second, something flickered across his face.
He remembered.
I'm deathly allergic to mangoes.
Today had already been chaotic, messy, out of control. I could see the hesitation in his posture, the slight tightening of his jaw. His signet ring turned once along his knuckle. He was just about to stop her, just about to say something.
But I didn't give him the chance.
Without a moment's pause, I reached out, grabbed the mango from her hand, and shoved the entire fruit into my mouth.
The motion was sudden, almost violent.
Juice burst between my teeth as I bit down hard, spilling from the corners of my lips, sticky and sweet as it ran down my chin. I chewed desperately, swallowing the taste that would soon turn into poison.
Perfect.
This should be the last death.
Finally.
Relief, faint but real, flickered through me.