Page 58 of Crown Of Blood

Because whoever is out there just stole something I didn't even know I was capable of feeling.

Nicole's voice filters through, careful but urgent.

"Sofia's upset, Don. She says she'll only calm down if she talks to Isabella."

Isabella's eyes fly open, meeting mine.

For a heartbeat, neither of us moves.

Then she whispers, "We'll be right there."

I exhale, forcing my pulse to slow. My hands are still braced on the wall beside her head. Slowly, I ease back, helping her find her footing.

She's trembling—but not with fear.

The sight of it nearly undoes me again.

Her feet hit the floor. She stays close, too close.

Then, before I can step away, she rises on her toes and presses a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth.

"You're a good dad," she says quietly.

The words hit harder than any blow I've taken in my life.

She turns before I can answer, heading for the door. The faint scent of her—sweet and clean and maddening—trails behind her.

I stay where I am, hand still pressed to the wall, trying to remember what breathing feels like.

Because somewhere between fury and forgiveness, between betrayal and desire,

I lost control.

And for the first time in years,

I'm not sure I want it back.

Sofia's door is half open, a sliver of warm light spilling into the dark hall.

The sound of her crying cuts through me sharper than any knife ever could.

I glance at Isabella beside me.

Her expression is already soft, worried. She doesn't wait for me — she slips inside first, quiet and steady, like she's been doing this her whole life.

Sofia sees her and bolts forward.

"Bella!"

She collides with Isabella's legs, throwing her little arms around her waist. Isabella's arms wrap around her shoulders as she hugs my girl.

"Hey," she whispers, voice low and soothing. "It's okay, Principessa. What's wrong?"

Sofia buries her face against Isabella's stomach, her small body trembling as she starts to ramble — words so fast neither of us can make them out.

"Slow down, baby," Isabella says softly, pulling her back just enough to see her face. "What is it?"

Sofia sniffles, eyes darting between us. Then she turns, squaring her little shoulders as she looks at me.