Semua Bab Ruthless Claim: Bab 121 - Bab 130

Morning came softly.Not with urgency. Not with alarms or raised voices. Just pale sunlight slipping through linen curtains and the quiet sounds of a house waking on its own terms.Aria lay still for a moment, listening.Leon breathed steadily in his bassinet. Somewhere down the hall, a door closed gently. Footsteps—Luca’s—moved through the villa without haste.That alone felt like a miracle.She pushed herself up slowly, body still healing, still learning its new shape. When she stepped into the hallway, she found Luca in the kitchen, barefoot, sleeves rolled up, holding Leon against his shoulder while warming a bottle.He looked… domestic.Ridiculously so.Aria stopped short, emotion catching unexpectedly in her chest.He glanced over and smiled. Not the sharp, controlled smile he used in public. The real one. The one meant only for her.“Good morning,” he said quietly. “He woke early.”Leon made a small sound, fist clenching in Luca’s shirt as if to confirm the claim.Aria walked o

The house began to learn their rhythm.Not the frantic one they’d lived in before—where phones rang at odd hours and silence meant danger—but a slower, gentler cadence shaped around Leon’s needs and Aria’s healing.Morning light filtered into the nursery as Aria rocked Leon against her chest. He was awake now, dark eyes tracking her face with solemn curiosity, as if memorizing her.“You have his stare,” she murmured. “The one that makes people tell the truth even when they don’t mean to.”From the doorway, Luca watched.He hadn’t meant to linger—but something about seeing them together stilled him in a way nothing else could. Aria looked softer lately, but not fragile. Grounded. Real. And Leon—Leon was already everything.“You’re staring,” Aria said without looking up.“Can you blame me?” Luca replied, stepping inside. He bent, pressing a kiss to Leon’s forehead, then one to Aria’s temple. “You make it difficult to leave the room.”“Good,” she said lightly. “You used to leave too much

Change didn’t announce itself.It arrived quietly—folded into routines, stitched into mornings that no longer tasted like fear.Aria noticed it first in the smallest ways.In how Luca no longer checked the security feed every ten minutes. In how Leon’s cries didn’t send alarms through the villa, but drew smiles instead. In how laughter—real laughter—began to echo down hallways that once only knew urgency.The villa was still guarded. The world was still sharp.But it no longer felt like they were living against it.They were living within it.That afternoon, Aria sat in the sunroom with Leon sprawled on a soft mat, kicking enthusiastically at absolutely nothing. Papers were spread across the table—architect sketches, fabric swatches, a notebook filled with messy handwriting.Lucia hovered nearby, amused. “You look like you’re planning a takeover.”Aria smiled without looking up. “Just a life.”Lucia arched a brow. “That’s usually how it starts.”Aria laughed softly, then sobered. “I d

Morning came gently.That alone felt strange.Aria woke to soft light spilling through the curtains and the steady weight of Leon asleep beside her in his bassinet. The villa wasn’t tense. No alarms. No urgent footsteps. No voices raised behind closed doors.Just… peace.She lay there for a moment, afraid to move—as if the stillness might break if she acknowledged it.Then Luca stirred beside her.He reached for her without opening his eyes, his hand settling at her waist like it had always belonged there. The contact grounded her instantly.“You’re awake,” he murmured.“So are you,” she whispered.“Been awake awhile.”She turned onto her side to face him. His expression was calm, but thoughtful—the look he wore when something was still processing in the back of his mind.“You’re thinking,” she said.He didn’t deny it. “About how easily everything could’ve gone differently.”Aria lifted her hand, brushing her fingers through his hair. “But it didn’t.”“No,” he agreed. “Because you sto

The first crack doesn’t come from outside.It comes from inside Aria.She notices it while folding Leon’s clothes—tiny cotton shirts, impossibly small socks. Her hands pause mid-motion, a strange pressure settling behind her ribs. Not pain. Not fear.Awareness.Life has slowed since Matteo fell out of their orbit. The villa breathes differently now. Quieter. Softer. Almost domestic. And yet… Aria has learned that calm doesn’t always mean safe. Sometimes it just means waiting.She presses a hand to her chest, then exhales.“You’re overthinking,” she murmurs to herself.But the feeling doesn’t leave.⸻That evening, Luca comes home later than usual.Not late enough to worry—but late enough to be noticeable.Aria is in the sitting room, Leon asleep against her shoulder. She looks up the second the door opens.Luca pauses when he sees her, something unreadable flickering across his face before it smooths out.“Hey,” he says softly.“Hey,” she replies.They watch each other for a beat too