The morning after their heartfelt discussion about Amara’s wish, Isla woke to the sound of laughter echoing through the halls. She blinked, disoriented for a moment, before realizing the source. Sliding out of bed, she made her way to the kitchen, where she found Dante and Amara engrossed in a pancake-making session.
Dante was holding a bowl of batter, his sleeves rolled up, while Amara attempted to flip a pancake on the griddle with a spatula that seemed far too big for her tiny hands. The sight was so endearing Isla stopped in her tracks to watch them, her heart swelling with warmth.
“Careful, princess,” Dante instructed, his tone patient. “You don’t want to splatter it everywhere.”
“I got it, Daddy!” Amara replied confidently, her tongue poking out in concentration as she flipped the pancake… straight onto the counter.
Dante laughed, shaking his head. “Well, almost.”
“Hey!” Isla’s voice broke through their moment, and both father and daughter turned to her with guilty expressions.
“Mommy!” Amara exclaimed, abandoning her spatula and running toward Isla. She hugged her around the waist. “Daddy said I’m learning to make pancakes!”
Isla looked over her daughter’s shoulder at Dante, who had an unapologetic grin on his face. “I see that,” she said, her tone mock-stern as she surveyed the mess of flour and batter on the counter.
“Breakfast is a work in progress,” Dante said, stepping forward to kiss her cheek. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” Isla replied, trying not to smile as Amara tugged her toward the table.
“Mommy, you have to try the ones we made!” Amara insisted, climbing into her chair.
“Do I, now?” Isla teased, taking a seat. Dante placed a plate in front of her with a pancake that was slightly misshapen but smelled heavenly.
“It’s our masterpiece,” Dante said proudly.
Isla took a bite and hummed in approval. “It’s delicious. You both did great.”
Amara beamed, and Dante smirked, clearly pleased with himself.
—
The rest of the day passed in a blur of family activities. They spent the afternoon in the garden, playing tag and hide-and-seek at Amara’s insistence. Isla marveled at how easily Dante adapted to being a hands-on father. Despite his busy schedule and commanding presence, he always made time for Amara.
“Daddy’s hiding behind the tree!” Amara called out as Isla counted aloud, her giggles giving away their location.
“You’re supposed to keep it a secret, princess!” Dante protested, stepping out from behind the tree with a sheepish grin.
“Oops!” Amara said, covering her mouth with her hands but laughing nonetheless.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the garden, Isla felt a sense of peace she hadn’t experienced in a long time. This was what she had always wanted-a family, love, and moments of simple joy.
—
Later that evening, after Amara was tucked into bed, Isla found herself sitting on the couch with Dante in the living room. The house was quiet, save for the crackling of the fireplace. She curled up against him, her head resting on his shoulder.
“Today was nice,” she said softly.
“It was,” Dante agreed, his arm around her. “You and Amara… you make everything worth it.”
Isla looked up at him, her heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his eyes. “You’ve changed so much since we first met,” she said, her voice tinged with awe.
Dante smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You and Amara changed me. Before you, I didn’t think I deserved this-happiness, a family. But now…” He trailed off, his gaze holding hers. “I don’t ever want to lose it.”
“You won’t,” Isla whispered, her voice barely audible.
He leaned down, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, lingering kiss. Isla melted into him, her worries and doubts fading away in that moment.
—
The following morning, as they sat down for breakfast, Dante’s phone buzzed on the counter. He glanced at it, his expression darkening as he read the screen.
“Everything okay?” Isla asked, noticing the shift in his demeanor.
“It’s Vincent,” Dante said, his jaw tightening. “He wants to meet me.”
“Where?” Isla asked, her voice laced with concern.
“At the old warehouse near the docks,” Dante replied, standing up and grabbing his jacket.
Isla frowned, her instincts telling her that this was more than just a casual meeting. “Do you have to go?”
Dante paused, his hand on the doorframe. “I have to. It’s business.”
“Be careful,” Isla said, her worry evident.
Dante walked back to her, placing a hand on her cheek. “I will. Don’t worry.”
But Isla couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in her chest as she watched him leave.
—
The hours dragged on, each passing moment amplifying Isla’s anxiety. She tried to distract herself by playing with Amara, but her thoughts kept drifting back to Dante.
When the clock struck eight, Isla’s phone buzzed. She grabbed it quickly, hoping it was Dante, but her heart sank as she read the message from one of his associates.
“There’s been an accident. Dante’s on his way to the mansion now.”
Isla froze, the words sinking in like a lead weight. “An accident?” she whispered, her mind racing.
“Mommy?” Amara’s voice brought her back to reality.
Isla forced a smile, kneeling down to her daughter’s level. “Sweetheart, why don’t you go play in your room for a little while? Mommy needs to make a phone call.”
Amara nodded, sensing her mother’s unease, and hurried off. Isla immediately dialed Dante’s number, but it went straight to voicemail.
Her heart pounded as she paced the living room, waiting for him to arrive. When she finally heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway, she rushed to the door.
Dante stepped out, his face pale but otherwise unharmed.
“Dante!” Isla cried, running to him. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“I’m fine,” Dante said, his voice steady but tired. “It was just a minor crash. Nothing serious.”
Isla didn’t believe him for a second. “You’re lying. Tell me the truth.”
Dante sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Vincent’s men ambushed me. It wasn’t an accident-it was deliberate.”
Isla’s blood ran cold. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve-”
“There’s nothing you could’ve done,” Dante interrupted gently. “This is my mess to clean up, Isla. I won’t let it touch you or Amara.”
Isla shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. “You can’t keep doing this alone, Dante. You have a family now. Let me help you.”
Dante pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. “The best way you can help is by staying safe. I won’t let anything happen to you or our daughter.”
Isla clung to him, her heart heavy with fear and love. She didn’t know what the future held, but one thing was certain-she couldn’t bear to lose him.