Chapter twenty seven

Dante POV

I noticed the change before anyone said it out loud.

The house felt lighter.

Not quieter, lighter. Like the air had shifted its weight.

By morning, Elara was on her feet.

Not just standing. Moving. Slow, careful steps, yes, but steady. Her color had returned. Her eyes were clearer. The fragile edge that had scared the hell out of me for two days was dull now, fading.

And for the first time since she fell sick, my chest loosened.

“She’s up,” Luca said beside me, watching from the hallway.

“I see that,” I replied.

Elara stood near the window, sunlight catching in her hair. She wore a simple dress, loose at the waist. Her hand rested unconsciously on her stomach, protective, natural.

Something in my gut shifted.

“She shouldn’t overdo it,” Luca added.

“She won’t,” I said. “Not today.”

Luca glanced at me. “You sound sure.”

“I am.”

A maid approached carefully. “Sir… Miss Elara has eaten. She asked if she could walk outside.”

“Good,” I said. “Tell her to meet me in ten minutes.”

Luca’s brow lifted. “You’re taking her out?”

“Yes.”

He studied me. “Alicia left early this morning.”

“I know.”

No explanation followed. None was needed.

Elara looked surprised when I told her.

“Out?” she asked. “Like… outside the house?”

“Yes.”

“Is that safe?” she asked softly.

I met her gaze. “With me, it is.”

She nodded, trusting me in a way that tightened something behind my ribs.

The drive was quiet at first. She watched the city through the tinted window like she was seeing it for the first time. Her fingers traced the glass absently.

“You don’t go out much,” I said.

“No,” she replied. “I didn’t think I was allowed.”

The words landed wrong.

“You don’t need permission to breathe,” I said.

She smiled faintly, then looked away.

I took her to a private boutique downtown. Closed to the public. Discreet. Secure.

The manager greeted me nervously.

“Anything she wants,” I said. “Nothing tight. Nothing uncomfortable.”

Elara blinked. “You don’t need to”

“I do,” I interrupted. “You need clothes that fit you. And the baby.”

Her cheeks warmed. “It’s still early.”

“Not too early to be comfortable.”

She didn’t argue again.

I sat while she tried on dresses. Every time she stepped out, I assessed her the way I would assess a deal. Fit. Comfort. Function.

But something else crept in too.

She looked different already. Not fragile. Not small. There was a quiet strength in the way she stood now.

“This one?” she asked, smoothing her hands over a soft cream dress.

“Yes,” I said immediately.

She smiled, surprised. “You didn’t even think.”

“I did,” I replied. “You look well.”

The word meant more than it should have.

We bought more than clothes. Shoes. Coats. Things for the baby she pretended not to linger over, but did.

A small pair of socks made her stop completely.

“Dante,” she said quietly.

“Yes.”

“They’re tiny.”

I nodded. “They will be worn.”

She swallowed.

Back in the car, she rested her head against the seat, exhausted but calm.

“Thank you,” she said.

“For what?”

“For seeing me.”

I didn’t answer right away.

When we returned to the mansion, the staff looked startled. Whispers followed us.

Let them talk.

That night, I stood alone in my office, staring out the window.

Something had shifted.

Not just with Elara.

With me.

And I knew this calm wouldn’t last.

Because peace never stayed long in my world.

And when it broke again, it would break hard.