(Isabella’s POV)
I pulled the man I had grown to love away from the cold, sterile light of the study and back toward our bedroom. The war, the ghosts, the impossible choices—they would all still be there in an hour. But for now, I wanted him to relax, to not think of anything but this. To let me give him a moment of peace.
“Angel, where are we going?” he asked, his voice tired and stressed. “We have to solve the issue with my father now.”
“To our bedroom, Alessandro,” I said, looking back at him. He was letting me pull him along without any resistance, his usual iron control gone, replaced by a deep, weary trust in me. “You need to rest. You need a break. Let your men handle this for a little while. That’s why you have them.”
On getting to our room, I locked the door behind us to avoid
