Page 43 of Crown Of Blood
Because it’s not just kindness.
It’sbelonging.
Sofia’s never let anyone that close since her mother died. Not even Nicole. But she’s wrapped around Isabella like she’s been waiting for her all along.
And Isabella—this stubborn, infuriating woman who has fought me at every turn—is holding my daughter like she was made to.
I lean against the doorframe, unseen. Watching.
She presses a kiss to Sofia’s forehead, whispering something I can’t quite hear. The kind of words I used to hear from my wife’s lips before everything turned to ash.
I swallow hard, my hand curling into a fist to keep from reaching for her.
She looks up then, maybe sensing me, and our eyes meet across the room.
For a long moment, neither of us moves.
The only sound is Sofia’s soft breathing between us.
There’s no anger left in me. Just the sharp, unbearable ache of everything I’ve tried not to feel.
She’s not supposed to be here—in my home, in my life, in my heart.
But she is.
And I know, standing in that doorway, that I’m already lost.
I wait until Sofia’s fully asleep before I step inside. Isabella doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, she just watches me quietly as I tuck the blanket tighter around my daughter.
When I straighten, she stands and whispers, “She had a nightmare. I just… stayed with her until she calmed down.”
I nod, voice rough. “Thank you.”
“She’s incredible,” Isabella says softly. “You’ve done a good job with her.”
I can’t look at her when I answer. “Her mother helped.”
There’s a pause. Then, quietly, “She’d be proud of you.”
The words sink deep, hitting the part of me I keep buried under concrete and control.
“Get some sleep,” I tell her finally. “It’s late.”
She hesitates, her eyes searching mine for something I can’t give her. Then she nods and slips out past me, her scent—warm and sweet—lingering in her wake.
When she’s gone, I sit on the edge of Sofia’s bed for a moment longer, staring at the door.
Because I know the truth now, the one I’ve been trying not to face.
Isabella DeLaurentis isn’t my prisoner anymore.
She’s my weakness.
And that’s more dangerous than anything waiting outside these walls.
The house is silent again.
Sofia’s asleep. The city hums far below, but up here, there’s nothing left but ghosts and exhaustion.
