The days following their conversation were filled with a fragile truce. Isla and Alessandro moved through the house like two strangers trying to rebuild something that had been shattered beyond recognition. There were no more words about forgiveness or trust—only silence and the occasional glance that spoke volumes more than either of them were willing to admit.
Isla had spent more time alone, wandering through the estate, trying to sort out her feelings. She couldn't ignore the pull she still felt toward him. It was impossible. But she wasn't sure if that pull was enough to bridge the distance between them. Trust wasn't something she could give him so easily, not after everything that had happened.
Alessandro, on the other hand, had become more distant. His focus was on the threats that loomed over them, but there was a sharpness to his attention that made it clear he wasn't just thinking about the dangers outside the walls of their sanctuary. There was a storm brewing within him, one that Isla wasn't sure she could weather.
One night, as the house settled into quiet, Isla found herself in the study again, this time sitting by the window, watching the rain fall in sheets against the glass. The sound was soothing, but it couldn't drown the storm inside her.
She wasn't sure how long she'd been lost in her thoughts when she heard the soft click of the door opening. Her heart stuttered when she saw Alessandro standing there, his dark gaze fixed on her.
"Can we talk?" His voice was softer than she expected, but there was an edge to it that told her this conversation was inevitable.
Isla didn't look at him right away. "What's left to talk about?"
His jaw tightened. "You're still avoiding me."
She finally turned to face him, her expression hard. "I'm not avoiding you. I'm just... thinking. There's a difference."
Alessandro stepped into the room, the distance between them closing with each step. "Thinking about what?"
"About everything," she replied, her voice almost a whisper. "About this. About us. About how we got here."
He nodded, the flicker of understanding in his eyes making her heart ache. "I know I made mistakes. I know I hurt you. But I also know that what we have... it's not something I can just walk away from."
Isla felt her throat tighten, but she swallowed it down. "And I'm supposed to just forget everything? Forget how you kept me in the dark? Forget how you thought you could protect me by controlling everything?"
"I didn't think—" He stopped himself, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I thought I was doing what was best. But I see now how wrong I was."
Isla felt the weight of his words, but she wasn't sure she was ready to accept them. Not yet. "And now?"
"Now," Alessandro said, taking another step closer, "I'm asking you to trust me again. I'm not asking for everything back at once. But I need you to believe that I want to make this right. That I want us to be right."
Her breath caught in her throat. He wasn't asking for her forgiveness. Not directly, anyway. But there was something in his eyes—something raw, vulnerable—that made her question everything she thought she knew.
She didn't answer right away. Instead, she stood up, pacing across the room as the weight of his words sank in. "I don't know if I can just forgive you, Alessandro. I can't just forget."
He didn't try to close the distance between them again. He respected her space, his gaze fixed on her as if willing her to understand the sincerity in his eyes. "I don't expect you to forget. I just need you to see that I'm not the man I was when I made those decisions. I'm not the man who shut you out."
Her eyes softened slightly, but the anger still lingered beneath the surface. "Then who are you, Alessandro? Because I don't know anymore."
He took a breath, his voice steady but filled with the weight of his resolve. "I'm the man who's here, standing in front of you, trying to make up for everything. I'm the man who's willing to fight for us. For you."
Isla stopped pacing, her back to him. Her heart raced in her chest. She was so close to giving in, to letting herself believe him again. But the fear was still there—the fear that this was all just another manipulation, another game in the ruthless world he inhabited.
"You don't get it, do you?" she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. "It's not just about what you're willing to do. It's about what I'm willing to risk. What I'm willing to give."
There was a long silence between them, one that stretched into eternity, before Alessandro spoke again. "Then let me show you. Let me prove that I'm worth that risk."
Isla turned to face him, her breath shaky. "You can't make me choose, Alessandro. Not like this."
"I'm not asking you to choose," he said, his voice low, almost pleading. "I'm asking you to give me a chance. To see if we can build something better from this."
The sincerity in his voice made her knees weak. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that they could have something real, something that wasn't tangled in the lies and manipulation that had defined their relationship so far.
But the stakes were high. Too high.
"I don't know if I can do this," she said softly, her voice barely a whisper.
"Then let me show you that you can," Alessandro replied.
And in that moment, Isla knew. She wasn't just standing at the edge of a relationship anymore. She was standing at the edge of a choice—one that could change everything.