Page 249 of Blackwood

Lex huffs under his breath behind me, muttering something likefucking greatas he sets down his bag.

Cade slides up next to me, voice gentle. “Here, sweetheart. Let me take this.”

He takes my suitcase from my hand and carries it toward the bedroom. I catch the curve of a smile on his lips as he looks around. “Damn. This place is insane.”

Roman’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “I’ll let you get settled. But Isabella…” he waits until I look at him. “…I’d like for you to join me for breakfast in the morning. If that’s all right.”

Before I can even respond, Lex steps forward like a wall. “If she goes, we all go.”

Roman lifts a brow, amused but unfazed. “Very well. The offer still stands.”

“We’ll see you downstairs in the morning.” I reach out and place my hand on his arm. Light, but intentional. “Thank you again. I mean it, Roman.”

His eyes glance to where my hand touches him and then up to my face. There’s something there, flickering just behind the surface. Not anger. Not even disappointment. Just a quiet ache. A silent wish for the words I didn’t say.

Dad.

Father.

But I can’t. Not yet. Maybe not ever. I drop my hand. Roman gives a single nod, then steps out of the suite, the door clicking softly shut behind him.

♥♥♥

The restaurant inside NOX is exactly what you’d expect from Roman Russo—sleek, shadowed, and decadent. Glass chandeliers hang like icicles over velvet booths. Even at nine a.m., candlelight flickers against silver flatware. A wall of windows lets in just enough gray Manhattan light to remind you this isn’t a dream. It’s a kingdom. And he’s the king.

Roman’s already seated when we arrive in the corner booth. I slide in. Cade sits beside me, Lex across, already looking annoyed.

“Thank you for coming, Isabella,” Roman says smoothly, lifting his coffee. “I know things have been… tense.”

Lex scoffs. Cade lays a hand on my thigh under the table.

“We appreciate the suite,” I say. “And the sweep of the floor. I know you didn’t have to.”

“You’re my daughter. What’s mine is yours.”

Lex huffs, loud and unbothered. “You keep saying that. Feels more like what’s yours is yours, and we’re just lucky to be breathing in your orbit.”

“Lex,” I warn, gentle but sharp.

“You’re fiercely protective. I respect that. But all I want is to get to know my daughter. All of her. And if that means tolerating your brooding scowls and bone-deep distrust, so be it.”

Lex leans forward. “You want to know her? Start by telling her the truth about why she was raised in hell. Why it took twenty years and a damn body count for you to show the fuck up.”

Roman exhales through his nose, like he’s holding back a thousand answers. “I told Isabella when she and Cade’s twin came to see me, I did try. I put my best men on it. The trail went cold.”

His voice roughens, quieter now, like the words scrape coming out. “It was like she vanished into thin air. One day there were whispers, the next… nothing. No leads. No hope. Just silence.”

My stomach turns. I push my coffee away. “So, what do you want from me, Roman? Just to make up for lost time? Or is there more?”

His expression softens just slightly. “I want to know you. Your favorite color. What you’re afraid of. What makes you laugh.”

“There isn’t much to tell,” I say, voice low. “Favorite color is blue. I grew up in the system. I got out with help from my bro—”

I stop myself. Zeke. The Black Books. Not yet.

Roman notices. “You can talk to me, Isabella. You can trust me.”

Lex mumbles something under his breath.