(Sofia's POV)
Breakfast stretched longer than either of us planned.
Somehow, mornings with Alessandro always did.
The conversation stayed light, moving between small teasing comments and quiet moments that felt too normal for the kind of lives we lived. Every now and then, I caught myself watching him without realizing it—healthy again, sitting across from me, looking more like himself than he had in weeks.
It still felt unreal sometimes.
Especially after everything that had happened.
But this time, when I looked up, I realized I wasn't the only one staring.
Alessandro was watching me.
Not casually.
Not absentmindedly.
Actually watching me.
His coffee had gone untouched for the past few minutes, his attention completely fixed on me like there was nowhere else he would rather be.
I tilted my head slightly.
"What?" I asked, trying not to smile.
He didn't answer immediately.
Just leaned back in his chair a little, still looking at me with that calm expression that always made me feel seen in ways I couldn't explain.
"You're beautiful," he said simply.
I blinked once.
"That random?"
"No," he replied casually. "Just true."
I looked away for a second, shaking my head lightly despite the warmth creeping into my face.
"You've been staring at me for almost ten minutes," I said.
"Can you blame me?"
The way he said it made me laugh quietly.
His gaze softened even more.
"We don't have to go today," he said after a moment.
I looked back at him. "To my father's?"
He nodded once.
"We can stay here."
His voice lowered slightly.
"Spend the whole day doing absolutely nothing."
I raised a brow.
"Nothing?"
"Nothing important," he corrected calmly. "Just stay with my wife."
The words landed somewhere softer inside me.
He looked completely serious too, like canceling the entire day genuinely sounded better than dealing with family visits.
"You really don't want to go," I said.
"No," he admitted without hesitation. "I'd rather stay here with you."
That made me smile despite myself.
For a second, the idea sounded tempting.
No tension.
No awkward family reunion.
No pretending.
Just us.
But eventually, reality settled back in.
"We have to go," I said softly.
Alessandro sighed dramatically, leaning back further in his chair.
"You ruin all my good plans."
I laughed.
"My father already invited us."
"That doesn't mean I have to like it."
"You'll survive."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Barely."
I shook my head, smiling again before reaching across the table to touch his hand briefly.
"It'll be okay," I said quietly.
He looked down at my hand for a moment, then back at me.
"If it stops being okay," he said calmly, "we leave."
The protectiveness in his voice wasn't dramatic.
It never was.
Just certain.
Like there was no version of the day where he would let me be uncomfortable for too long.
"Deal," I replied softly.
Breakfast stretched a little longer after that, mostly because Alessandro kept finding reasons to delay getting up. Another coffee. Another conversation. Another excuse to keep me sitting across from him.
Eventually, though, we both gave in to reality.
We got dressed slowly, moving around the room with an easy familiarity that had settled naturally between us. Every now and then, Alessandro would glance over at me like he still wasn't completely over the fact that I was there.
"You're staring again," I said while fixing my earrings.
"I know."
"You're not even trying to hide it."
"I'm not trying to."
I rolled my eyes softly, though the smile stayed.
By the time we were finally ready, the house downstairs was already quiet again.
Outside, Alessandro's car was waiting.
He opened the passenger door for me without thinking, one hand resting lightly against the top of the door as I got in.
"Thank you," I said.
"You're my wife," he replied simply, like that explained everything.
And somehow…
It did.
The drive to Mateo Cortez's mansion started quietly.
One of Alessandro's hands rested loosely against the steering wheel while the other found mine somewhere along the way, holding it without needing a reason.
Outside, the city moved normally.
Inside the car, everything felt slower.
Calmer.
Like for a little while, the world had forgotten how complicated things were supposed to be.
By the time we arrived at Mateo Cortez's mansion, the gates were already open.
Nothing had changed.
The same tall structure. The same perfectly kept compound. The same place that held too many memories I didn't fully want to remember.
Alessandro parked the car slowly before turning to me.
"You okay?" he asked.
I nodded once. "Yeah."
But his eyes stayed on me a little longer, like he didn't fully believe me. Then he reached for my hand.
"Let's go," he said calmly.
The front door opened before we even reached it.
My father was already standing there.
For a second, he just looked at me.
Then his expression softened.
"Sofia."
He stepped forward and pulled me into a hug.
This time, I didn't freeze completely.
Just for a moment.
Then I returned it lightly.
"I'm glad you came," he said.
"I'm glad too," I replied quietly.
He turned to Alessandro next.
"Welcome," he said, shaking his hand firmly.
"Thank you, sir," Alessandro replied.
Inside the house, everything looked too perfect.
Too arranged.
Like someone had tried very hard to make today look normal.
That was when I saw her.
My stepmother.
She stepped forward immediately with a smile that looked almost real.
"Sofia," she said warmly.
Before I could fully respond, she reached for me.
Not aggressively.
Not forcefully.
But like she wanted to hold me.
Like she wanted to pretend everything between us had always been fine.
For a second, I let my hand rise halfway.
Then I felt it.
The performance.
The act.
So I gently withdrew my hand before she could fully hold it.
"I'm fine," I said calmly.
Her smile didn't disappear, but it changed slightly.
Smaller.
Controlled.
"That's good," she replied, lowering her hand.
Behind me, I felt Alessandro's attention shift immediately.
His hand found mine without a word.
Quiet.
Protective.
Amanda appeared next, watching the exchange with a faint, unreadable smile.
"You really came," she said.
"Amanda," my father warned lightly.
She raised her hands slightly. "I'm just surprised."
We moved into the dining area after that.
The table was already full.
Too much food.
Carefully arranged dishes.
Some of them looked familiar.
My favorites.
That made me pause slightly.
My father noticed.
"I remembered," he said simply.
I didn't know what to say to that.
So I just nodded.
We all sat down.
The conversation started slowly.
How we had been.
How Alessandro was recovering.
General questions.
Safe answers.
But I barely touched my food.
Not because I didn't want it.
Because I didn't fully trust anything here yet.
Alessandro noticed immediately.
Without saying anything, he took a bite from one of the dishes first, then gently moved it closer to me.
A silent reassurance.
I glanced at him.
He didn't look at me.
But I understood.
Eventually, I ate.
Just a little.
My father then stood.
"Sofia," he said. "Walk with me."
I looked at Alessandro briefly.
He nodded once.
"I'll be here," he said softly.
Outside, the garden was quiet.
My father walked beside me for a moment before speaking.
"I've been thinking a lot," he said.
I stayed silent.
"I know I failed you," he continued. "In many ways."
I didn't deny it.
Because it was true.
"But I want to fix that," he said. "While I still can."
I finally looked at him.
"And I want you involved."
"Involved in what?"
"The business," he said.
I frowned slightly.
"You and Alessandro."
That made me pause.
"I trust him," my father added. "And you're my daughter. It's time you both understand everything I built."
His voice softened slightly.
"I don't want you left out anymore."
Before I could respond, I noticed movement near the window.
Amanda.
Watching us.
Her expression tightened slightly before she turned away.
Inside the house, she didn't waste time.
The moment she was alone, she picked up her phone.
"Andrian," she said quietly.
"You should come."
A pause.
"Sofia and Alessandro are here."
Her voice lowered slightly.
"And my father is suddenly acting like everything is fine."
Then she ended the call.
Back outside, my father exhaled slowly.
"You don't have to decide now," he said. "Just think about it."
I nodded.
"I will."
When we went back inside, Alessandro was already waiting.
His eyes found mine instantly.
"You okay?" he asked.
I nodded.
"Yeah."
But instead of staying in the main room, I found myself walking upstairs.
Almost without thinking.
Until I stopped in front of a familiar door.
My old room.
I pushed it open slowly.
Nothing had changed.
The bed.
The curtains.
The silence.
It all looked exactly the same.
For a moment, I just stood there.
Then memories hit.
Not loud.
But heavy.
Too many nights alone.
Too many moments of feeling unwanted.
I didn't even realize Alessandro had followed me until his hand gently touched my back.
"You came here," he said quietly.
I looked down slightly.
"I used to hate this room."
He glanced around once.
"You don't have to anymore."
Then he took my hand.
"You're not stuck here."
Before I could answer—
Voices downstairs.
Then another.
Clear.
Controlled.
Adrian.
My body went still immediately.
Not from confusion.
From recognition.
That voice didn't belong in this house at a peaceful time like this.
Alessandro noticed the shift in me instantly.
"What is it?" he asked quietly.
But I didn't answer.
Downstairs, the atmosphere had already changed.
Footsteps.
Then another voice—calm, controlled, almost amused.
"Mr Mateo," Adrian said as he walked in like he had every right to be there. "You really still don't understand how things work."
Silence dropped instantly across the room.
I moved slightly toward the railing, but Alessandro gently held my wrist back.
"Stay here," he murmured.
I didn't argue.
Below, I could see everything clearly now.
Adrian stood near the entrance, hands in his pockets, posture relaxed in a way that felt intentional—like he wanted everyone else to feel tense instead.
My father stood facing him, expression tight.
Amanda was right beside Adrian.
Too close.
Too comfortable.
That alone told me everything.
Adrian's gaze shifted slightly, landing on Alessandro first.
Then on me.
And he smirked faintly.
"Still glued together," he said simply.
Alessandro didn't respond.
Just stepped slightly in front of me without even thinking.
Adrian exhaled a quiet laugh.
"Relax," he added. "I didn't come for a reunion."
My father's voice sharpened.
"You came uninvited."
Adrian tilted his head.
"And yet I'm still the only one here saying the truth."
Amanda's eyes flickered—sharp, satisfied.
That was when she moved.
"Oh, Dad," she said softly, turning toward my father like she was being reasonable. "You should really stop pretending everything is fine."
My father's gaze narrowed.
Amanda continued, her voice rising just enough to carry.
"Sofia being brought into this family's business structure is already a risk."
I froze slightly.
Alessandro's hand tightened at my wrist.
Amanda looked up toward the stairs—toward me.
"And now she's standing upstairs like she belongs here?"
My breath caught.
That was the setup.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Designed.
She turned back to the room, placing a hand lightly on her chest like she was concerned.
"She doesn't understand how things work here," Amanda continued. "She never did. And involving her in anything serious—"
"That's enough."
My father's voice cut through the room like a blade.
Amanda paused.
Just for a second.
But she didn't stop.
"I'm only saying what everyone's thinking," she replied smoothly. "She's your daughter, yes—but she's not trained. She's emotional. She—"
"Stop talking about my daughter like she's a problem."
The room went completely still.
My father stepped forward.
For the first time, his calm mask cracked.
"That's my daughter you're speaking about," he said, voice low and firm. "And you will not insult her in my house."
Amanda's smile tightened.
"Mateo, I'm trying to protect—"
"You are trying to humiliate her," he corrected sharply.
A beat.
Then he looked directly at her.
"And it won't work."
Silence dropped again.
Adrian watched the exchange quietly, expression unreadable—but his eyes were sharp, calculating, like he was enjoying watching everything unfold.
Amanda shifted slightly, clearly not expecting him to defend me that strongly.
But my father wasn't done.
"She will not be spoken about like she's less than anyone in this room," he continued. "Not by you. Not by anyone."
His voice lowered slightly.
"And if she is part of my business decisions in the future, that is my choice. Not yours."
That landed heavily.
Even Adrian didn't interrupt.
From upstairs, I felt something tighten in my chest.
Not relief exactly.
Something deeper.
Alessandro's hand slid gently into mine.
A quiet reassurance.
Below, Amanda's face changed slightly—composure slipping for just a second before she recovered.
Adrian finally spoke again, voice calm.
"This is getting emotional," he said lightly. "I thought we were here for business."
My father didn't look away from Amanda.
"We are," he replied. "And business starts with respect."
A pause.
Then Adrian's gaze lifted again—this time toward the staircase.
Toward us.
"Interesting," he said quietly.
Alessandro's jaw tightened beside me.
But my father had already stepped forward again, reclaiming control of the room.
"Now," he said firmly, "if anyone has something serious to say, say it. Otherwise, this discussion is over."
Amanda's smile faded.
Adrian, however, just tilted his head slightly, like he had just confirmed something in his mind.
"Oh," he said softly. "It's not over yet."
And for the first time since he walked in—
The room felt like it actually belonged to him.
The room stayed tense for a moment longer, like no one was willing to be the first to let go of control.
Then my father exhaled slowly.
"Enough for today," Mateo Cortez said firmly, his voice regaining its calm authority.
Adrian didn't argue. He rarely did when Mateo spoke like that.
Amanda, however, only smiled faintly—as if she had already planted what she came to plant.
My father turned toward the stairs.
"Sofia," he called gently.
I stepped forward with Alessandro beside me.
We walked down together.
The atmosphere shifted the moment I reached the bottom—less like a battlefield, more like a house pretending nothing had happened.
Mateo's expression softened when he saw me properly.
"Come," he said, guiding me toward the exit. "Let me walk you both out."
Outside, the air felt lighter, even if nothing inside had truly changed.
The driveway was quiet. The same polished cars. The same guarded gates. But for once, I didn't feel trapped looking at it.
My father stopped beside us.
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then at Alessandro.
"I didn't expect today to go like that," he admitted quietly.
Alessandro nodded once. "Neither did I."
Mateo gave a small, tired exhale.
"I know I've made mistakes," he said, then turned slightly toward me. "But I meant what I said. I want you involved when you're ready—not forced. And I want you safe."
I looked at him for a moment before nodding.
"Okay," I said softly.
That seemed to be enough.
His gaze softened.
"Take care of her," he added to Alessandro.
"I always do," Alessandro replied without hesitation.
A pause.
Then Mateo gave a small nod.
"Go home."
It wasn't cold.
It was final in a protective way.
I stepped forward and hugged him briefly.
This time, it didn't feel distant.
When I pulled back, he simply nodded once, like he didn't trust himself to say more.
Then we left.
The drive home was quiet at first.
City lights blurred past the windows, painting soft reflections across Alessandro's face. One of his hands stayed on the steering wheel, the other found mine like it had done so many times before today.
But tonight, it felt different.
He glanced at me once.
"You're thinking too much," he said softly.
"I always am," I replied.
That earned a faint smile from him.
"You're safe," he added simply.
I didn't answer right away.
Instead, I squeezed his hand.
"I know," I said quietly.
When we got home, it was already late.
The house was dim, peaceful in a way the mansion never was. No voices. No tension. Just silence that felt like ours.
We didn't talk much as we stepped inside.
Didn't need to.
The world outside stayed outside.
Alessandro closed the door behind us, locking it with a quiet click.
For a moment, we just stood there.
Facing each other.
The weight of the day finally settling.
Then he stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from my face gently.
"You did well today," he said.
I let out a soft breath. "Did I?"
He nodded once. "You didn't let them shake you."
That made something in my chest loosen.
My hand slid up to his shirt lightly.
"I was shaken," I admitted.
His hand moved to my waist immediately—steady, grounding.
"But I'm here now," I added.
That was all it took.
The distance between us disappeared.
He kissed me slowly at first—like he was making sure I was really there, really with him, not caught in everything that had happened earlier. My fingers curled into his shirt as the world finally went quiet around us.
The kiss deepened, unhurried but certain, carrying everything neither of us had fully said all day.
No more tension.
No more watching.
Just the two of us, finally letting go of everything outside this moment.
He lifted me gently, and I didn't resist.
The rest of the night didn't belong to anything else.
Only us.
And for once, nothing else mattered, and we fall asleep together.