Chapter Twenty five

Dante POV

The house woke before the sun.

By the time I opened my eyes, the mansion was already alive. Footsteps echoed along the marble floors. Doors opened and closed. Voices moved through the halls in low, efficient tones. The smell of coffee drifted in from the kitchen. Normal. Busy. Controlled.

The way I liked it.

I sat up slowly, ignoring the dull pressure in my chest, and reached for the glass of water on my bedside table. Alicia was already awake, seated on the couch near the window, scrolling through her phone.

“You’re up early,” she said without looking at me.

“So are you,” I replied.

She glanced up, eyes scanning my face automatically. “How do you feel?”

“Fine.”

She didn’t argue. That alone told me she didn’t believe me.

I stood, adjusted my shirt, and walked out of the room. The corridor was full of movement. Staff passed me with quick bows. Luca was already speaking to one of the guards near the stairs.

Everything was running on schedule.

Except one thing.

“Elara isn’t down yet,” I said aloud, more to myself than anyone else.

Alicia paused mid-step. “She’s probably tired.”

Elara was never tired in the mornings. She was always downstairs early. Quiet. Polite. Sitting with a cup of tea like she didn’t want to take up space.

I waved a maid over. “Have you seen Elara this morning?”

The maid hesitated. “No, sir.”

Another maid approached. Same answer.

“She hasn’t come down at all?” I asked.

“No, sir.”

Something tightened low in my chest. Not pain. Something sharper.

“Send someone to check on her,” Alicia said lightly. “She might just be sleeping.”

I shook my head. “That’s not like her.”

I turned to Luca. “Go.”

Luca nodded immediately and headed toward the stairs.

I walked into the dining room, but the food tasted like nothing. I pushed my plate away and checked my watch. Too much time was passing.

Alicia sat across from me, composed. “You’re worrying over nothing.”

“I don’t worry,” I said.

She raised an eyebrow. “You do when it concerns her.”

Before I could respond, Luca came running down the stairs.

Fast.

Too fast.

His face was tight, eyes sharp with urgency.

“She’s sick,” he said. “Bad.”

I stood so fast the chair scraped loudly against the floor. Pain flared briefly in my chest, but I ignored it.

“How sick?” I asked.

“She’s burning up,” Luca said. “She can barely sit up. I called the doctor. He’s on his way.”

I was already moving.

“Dante,” Alicia said sharply. “Slow down.”

I didn’t.

The hallway blurred as I took the stairs two at a time, cane forgotten. Luca followed, talking into his phone, giving instructions.

I reached Elara’s door and pushed it open without knocking.

The room was dim. Curtains drawn. The air felt wrong. Too warm. Too still.

She was curled on the bed, skin flushed, hair damp with sweat. Her breathing was shallow. Uneven.

“Elara,” I said.

No response.

I crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, my heart pounding harder than it should. I reached out and touched her forehead.

She was burning.

“What happened?” I demanded.

“I don’t know,” Luca said. “She said she felt dizzy earlier. Then she collapsed.”

Elara shifted weakly, her lashes fluttering.

“Dante?” she whispered.

“I’m here,” I said immediately.

Her eyes opened halfway. “I didn’t mean to… I just felt cold.”

“Don’t talk,” I said.

Her hand twitched on the bed. Without thinking, I took it. It was hot. Too hot.

The door opened again.

Alicia entered.

She took one look at Elara and stopped short.

“Oh my God,” she said.

I didn’t look at her. “Why wasn’t anyone checking on her?”

“She didn’t call for anyone,” Alicia replied. “How were we supposed to know?”

I exhaled sharply, fighting irritation. “She should have been monitored.”

Alicia moved closer, eyes flicking between Elara and me. “The doctor is coming?”

“Yes.”

She nodded once, then surprised me by pulling the blanket higher over Elara’s shoulders. “She’s shaking.”

Elara stirred again, her fingers tightening weakly around mine.

“Don’t leave,” she murmured.

My grip tightened. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Alicia watched that exchange carefully. Something unreadable crossed her face.

“She needs water,” Alicia said. “And a cooler cloth.”

“I’ll handle it,” I said.

She didn’t move away. Instead, she met my gaze steadily. “Let me help. She’s carrying your child.”

The words landed differently coming from her mouth.

I nodded once. “Fine.”

She moved efficiently, grabbing water, wringing out a cloth, placing it gently on Elara’s forehead. Elara flinched slightly.

“Easy,” Alicia said softly. “It’s just to cool you down.”

Elara murmured something unintelligible.

The minutes stretched tight and uncomfortable.

I hated waiting.

The doctor arrived too slowly. By the time he stepped into the room, my jaw was locked tight.

He examined Elara quickly, checking her temperature, pulse, and eyes.

“She’s dehydrated,” he said. “And stressed. Her body is reacting.”

“Is the baby” I started.

“The baby is fine,” he said firmly. “But she needs rest. Fluids. And less tension.”

I glanced at Alicia.

She held my gaze without blinking.

“She can’t stay like this,” the doctor continued. “You need to reduce pressure around her.”

After he left, the room fell silent again.

Elara slept, breathing steadier now.

I stood near the window, arms crossed, anger simmering beneath my skin. “This shouldn’t have happened.”

Alicia stepped closer. “You can’t protect everyone from everything.”

“I should have protected her from this,” I said.

Alicia paused. Then, carefully, she placed a hand on my arm. “You’re doing your best.”

I looked at her.

Really looked.

She wasn’t accusing. She wasn’t jealous. She was steady. Present.

“I’ll stay with you,” she said quietly. “You don’t have to carry this alone.”

Something in me eased. Just slightly.

“Thank you,” I said.

Her fingers tightened gently. “We’ll handle this. Together.”

I glanced back at Elara, sleeping, fragile in a way that unsettled me deeply.

Something had shifted.

And I knew with a certainty that sat heavy in my chest this illness was only the beginning.

Outside the room, footsteps echoed again.

And for the first time since returning, I felt like the house was holding its breath.