Chapter Twenty-Two

Elara POV

I felt it before I heard anything.

Not the sound of engines.

Not footsteps.

Not voices.

The house shifted.

It was subtle, the kind of change you only notice when you’ve lived somewhere long enough to know its breathing. Guards straightened. Radios murmured once, then went quiet. Somewhere far below, a door closed with intention.

I pressed my palm against my stomach.

Something was different.

I stood slowly from the chair by the window, heart picking up speed for no clear reason. The afternoon sun poured through the glass, warm against my skin, but a chill slid down my spine anyway.

Then I heard it.

The low hum of engines outside.

Not one car.

Several.

My breath caught.

He was home.

I hadn’t known when he’d return. Luca hadn’t said. No one had said anything. The house had kept the secret until the last possible second.

I didn’t move.

I stayed where I was, frozen between relief and fear, listening as doors opened downstairs. Voices spoke quiet, respectful. Shoes crossed marble.

Then his voice.

Low. Calm. Controlled.

Very much alive.

I closed my eyes.

For a second, my knees almost gave out.

When I opened them again, there was a knock.

Soft.

Careful.

“Elara,” a maid said gently through the door. “The master has returned.”

I swallowed. “Thank you.”

My hands shook as I smoothed the front of my dress. It was loose, cream-colored, soft against my skin. Lately, everything I wore felt different. My body was no longer mine alone, and I felt it with every breath.

I stepped into the hallway just as voices approached from the stairs.

Dante appeared first.

He looked thinner.

Not weak, never that but sharpened. Like something had been carved out of him and replaced with steel. His face was paler, his eyes darker, more focused. A faint tension sat in his jaw, controlled but constant.

Alive.

Very alive.

His gaze found me instantly.

Locked.

Held.

He didn’t smile. Didn’t speak.

Just looked.

And something twisted in my chest.

He took a step forward.

Then stopped.

Like he was reminding himself of something.

“Elara,” he said quietly.

“Sir,” I replied.

Too formal.

Too automatic.

His eyes flicked briefly to my stomach, then back to my face. He didn’t touch. Didn’t reach.

Restraint wrapped around him like armor.

“You look well,” he said.

“I’m fine,” I answered. “Welcome home.”

Something passed across his face.

Home.

Before he could respond, Alicia’s heels clicked against the floor behind him.

“I didn’t realize you’d return today,” she said smoothly.

I turned.

She looked perfect, as always. Composed. Elegant. Eyes sharp with attention.

Dante didn’t turn toward her immediately.

“I hadn’t planned to,” he replied calmly.

She stepped closer, eyes searching his face. “You left without a word.”

“I handled what I needed to handle.”

“And you couldn’t tell me?” she pressed.

He finally faced her. His tone remained even. “It wasn’t necessary.”

That landed harder than shouting ever could.

Alicia’s lips tightened.

“I was worried,” she said. “You disappeared.”

“I was not unreachable,” Dante replied. “You simply didn’t need access.”

Silence snapped between them.

I felt it stretch, thin and dangerous.

Alicia recovered quickly. She always did.

“You should rest,” she said lightly. “You don’t look fully recovered.”

His gaze didn’t waver. “I didn’t return to be managed.”

Her smile stiffened.

“I’ll give you space,” she said. “We can talk later.”

“Perhaps,” Dante replied.

She turned and walked away, heels sharp against the floor, every step controlled.

When she was gone, the house seemed to breathe again.

Dante looked back at me.

“Walk with me,” he said.

I nodded.

We moved side by side down the hallway, close enough that I could feel his presence but not touching. Guards kept their distance. The house watched us.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I’m alright,” I said. “The doctors say everything is progressing normally.”

“And the baby?”

“Healthy.”

Good.

That word again.

He exhaled quietly.

“You were frightened,” he said.

“Yes.”

It wasn’t an accusation.

Just a fact.

“I don’t enjoy causing fear,” he continued.

“I know.”

He glanced at me then, surprised.

“You do?”

I nodded. “You wouldn’t have gone if you didn’t think it was necessary.”

His jaw tightened slightly.

“You shouldn’t have had to carry that weight,” he said.

“I’m carrying something heavier,” I replied softly.

He stopped walking.

So did I.

Slowly, carefully, he turned toward me.

Up close, I could see the exhaustion behind his control. The effort it took to stand so straight.

“You’re stronger than you realize,” he said.

I looked down, then back up. “So are you.”

His eyes darkened.

For a moment, I thought he might reach out.

He didn’t.

Instead, he stepped back.

“You should rest,” he said. “The house will be busy tonight.”

“Yes, sir.”

He hesitated.

“Elara.”

“Yes?”

“If anyone causes you discomfort,” he said quietly, “you tell Luca.”

I blinked.

“Or you tell me,” he added.

I nodded slowly.

“I will.”

That seemed to satisfy him.

He turned and walked away toward his office.

I stood there long after he was gone.

That night, the mansion buzzed with quiet activity. The staff moved carefully. Guards rotated shifts. Doors closed softly.

I lay in bed, one hand on my stomach, staring at the ceiling.

Alive.

He was alive.

And different.

Sometime after midnight, I heard voices through the open window.

Low.

Sharp.

I sat up slowly.

Alicia’s voice drifted from the garden below.

Tight.

Controlled.

“I don’t care what it takes,” she said into her phone. “Find out where he went. Someone always knows.”

A pause.

Then, it gets colder.

“And if she’s the reason…”

Her voice dropped too low to hear the rest.

I pressed my hand against my stomach.

The house had shifted again.

And this time, it felt like a warning.