Page 66 of Dangerous King
He didn't look at me. That I don't know what it means is driving me insane. My brain has been chasing itself in circles, trying tointerpret it. Did I imagine what I felt? Did I misunderstand his words? Did he regret it? Did I do something wrong?
But thankfully, I haven't had much time to spiral.
For the past forty-eight hours, Izzy, Eliza, and I have been in a whirlwind of activity getting the west wing of the estate ready for my family.
Eliza is the warmest, kindest person I know, next to Izzy. There's a quiet authority about her that doesn't beg for respect; it justis. I wasn't sure how to act around her at first, but then she rolled up her sleeves, handed me a tape measure, and told me, "Your parents aren't sleeping in a room with yellow drapes. They've been through enough."
We've picked out sheets, rugs, and soft lighting. Izzy insisted we plan a welcome dinner. Somehow, I ended up peeling garlic next to Eliza while Izzy taste-tested sauces straight out of the pan.
I haven't laughed that much in years.
Shadow, meanwhile, has been under the temporary custody of Julio, who—despite pretending to be exasperated—clearly loves him. Julio even texted me a picture this morning of Shadow sitting on his lap during a poker game, captioned:He cheats.
And when she wasn't organizing the guest rooms or attempting to teach Izzy how to fold towels hotel-style, Eliza turned one of the unused rooms off the east hall into a kind of creative studio for me.
I walked in yesterday and found racks of clothing, blank mannequins, soft natural lighting, and a mounted screen already logged into my Pinterest.
"I figured if you're going to live in this world," Eliza said, "you deserve something that's yours."
It nearly made me cry.
I've spent so long just surviving that I forgot what it felt like tomakesomething. To play. To build something just because it brings you joy.
I started putting outfits together last night. Nothing special. Just trying combinations, making boards. Eliza left a DSLR on the side table with a note:Use it when you're ready.
But no matter how full the days have been—no matter how welcome and warm they've made me feel—there's still this strange hollow space inside me where Enrico was. I've tried to push him out of my head. I tell myself it was just a moment. That maybe it didn't mean what I wanted it to. That maybe I was reading too much into everything.
But I don't know how to stop hoping. I don't know how to stop feeling.Because when someone like him touches someone like me—kisses me like that—how do you not start dreaming?
Then there's also the self-depreciative thoughts: But maybe I'm just temporary. A favor. A useful girl with a tragic story who served her purpose. Maybe I'm not what he wants.
Maybe I never was. My mind is still swirling in that fragile spiral when I hear a scream from down the hall.
"THEY'RE HERE!"
Izzy's voice. High. Breathless. Joyful.
My heart jumps into my throat. I shoot to my feet before I realize what I'm doing. My stomach flips. My knees go weak.They'rehere.Three little words that mean so much. The reason the world is once more about to be turned upside down.
I run.
The grand hallway is already filling with footsteps and voices. I hear Eliza's steady tone somewhere near the foyer, issuing quiet directions. Fabric rustles. The echo of a door swinging open. I round the corner and skid to a halt.
They're standing just inside the entryway. Framed by light. My father is older than I remember. But his eyes are the same. My mother, Loredana, clutches his arm like she might disappear. Her face crumples the second she sees me. Sabine. She's taller than I imagined. Her face is a mirror of mine, only stronger. She's crying. Lucas and Nico are behind them, flanking them like quiet shadows or bodyguards. Nico's smirking through his own emotion, arms wide. Lucas's eyes glisten even though he tries not to blink.
Time breaks.
I throw myself into them—intoallof them.
Arms wrap around me. Hands in my hair. My name repeated like a prayer. My mother sobs into my neck. My father shakes with quiet, stunned relief.
"You're here," I whisper, over and over. "You're all here. You're really here."
Sabine kisses my face and pulls back just far enough to look at me. "You're so much prettier than I thought."
“So are you,” I say, and we both burst into fresh tears.
Nico ruffles my hair, and Lucas crushes me in a rib-splitting hug that makes me laugh and cry at the same time. Somewhere behind it all, standing like sentries to this miracle, are the Sartoris.
