Solienne

The mansion had been quiet for days, as though everyone was afraid too much noise might shatter Isabella. Her brothers kept a protective orbit around her, giving her space but never truly leaving her alone.

She hardly left the guest room, clinging to a sense of safety like a fragile thread. The smell of blood and damp stone still clung to her memory. Every creak of the floorboards set her heart hammering. Every unfamiliar voice made her skin crawl.

But today, there was someone at the gate.

Luciano.

He'd arrived after nearly a week, stepping out of a black car with that lethal calm that had always both terrified and comforted her. The moment word reached her that he was here, Isabella's stomach twisted.

She'd dreamed of him so many nights, imagined him storming that house with all his brutal power, rescuing her - and he hadn't come.

But now he was here.

Aurelio was the one who told her, carefully. "He wants to see you, Bellina. But only if you're ready."

Isabella sat on the edge of the bed, heart pounding. Ready? She didn't know if she'd ever be ready. But some part of her needed to see him.

She nodded, voice stuck in her throat. "Okay."

When the door opened, and he stepped in, it was like a crack of thunder splitting the world.

Luciano looked... older, somehow. More worn. His dark hair was slightly mussed, his jaw shadowed with a few days' stubble, like he hadn't slept in too long. But his eyes - those deep, unreadable eyes - locked on her the moment he saw her, and something in them shattered.

"Isabella," he breathed.

Her lip trembled. She couldn't speak.

He took a step forward, then paused, as if afraid she'd bolt. "Can I come closer?"

She nodded, tears already rising.

He crossed the floor, slow, measured, until he stood right in front of her. Then, carefully, he dropped to his knees.

"Bella," he said, voice breaking, "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner."

A sob ripped from her throat.

"I thought," Luciano continued, words shaking, "if I stayed away, you could heal with your family. I thought maybe my face would just...remind you of pain. Of that world. But I was wrong. I should have come."

Her tears spilled over, hot and unstoppable.

Luciano reached for her hand, so gently it nearly broke her. "Say something," he begged, eyes shining. "Tell me you don't hate me."

She couldn't hold back. She lunged forward, burying her face in his chest, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt like a drowning woman.

His arms came around her instantly, crushing, protective, fierce.

She sobbed against him, every tremor of her body shaking him too.

"I thought you forgot me," she gasped, voice cracking. "They said no one was coming, and you didn't come-"

He pressed a hand to the back of her head, holding her against him. "No," he choked. "Never. I could never forget you. If I could have torn down that house with my bare hands, I would have. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, Isabella."

She cried harder, her voice dissolving into ugly, broken sobs.

Luciano just held her, rocking her slightly, lips pressed against her hair.