51

51
Emilia’s POV
My chest felt heavy, like I couldn’t get a proper breath. I made my way to the sitting room, feeling like a stranger in this mansion that had started to feel like home. Now it felt foreign and hostile, like the walls themselves were whispering accusations.
How could I have been so careless?
I sank onto one of the sofas, burying my face in my hands. The letter had been a threat, a direct one, against Francesca. And I had kept it from Alaric. I’d convinced myself I was doing the right thing, protecting his little girl from unnecessary fear. But now, after our conversation, I realized I’d only made things worse.
I leaned back against the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. The ornate molding blurred as tears filled my eyes. I’d been so sure of myself, so sure that I could handle this without needing to drag Alaric into it. I had underestimated the situation, and now the guilt was eating away at me.
What if something had happened to Francesca? The thought sent a shiver down my spine, colder than the breeze that drifted through the open window. I closed my eyes, replaying the moment she’d gone missing at the event earlier, how my heart had dropped when I couldn’t find her right away. It had felt like the world was slipping out from under me. And then, in those frantic moments of searching, all I could think about was the letter.
I should have told him. I should have-
“Emilia.”
I jumped, my head snapping up. Alaric stood by the stairs, his expression carefully blank. He looked different-less composed, almost raw. It was a rare look for him, and I wasn’t sure if it made me feel better or worse.
“I thought you’d gone back to your room,” he said quietly, stepping closer.
“I needed a moment,” I replied, my voice small. I couldn’t meet his eyes. The shame was too overwhelming.
He walked over, sitting down on the sofa across from me. There was an awkward pause as he seemed to search for the right words, something I’d never seen him struggle with before. Alaric was usually all confidence and control, a man who always knew exactly what to say. But now, he looked… uncertain.
“I can’t stop thinking,” I said before he could speak, my voice cracking. “What if this is my fault? What if I’m the reason Francesca was threatened?”
Alaric’s eyebrows knitted together, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Your fault?” he echoed, like the idea was absurd.
I nodded, clutching my hands together tightly in my lap. “I’m not family, Alaric. I’m just the nanny you hired off the street, and you barely knew anything about me when you brought me here. Maybe someone saw that as an opportunity. Maybe I’m the weak link.”
He frowned, the lines on his face deepening. “You think someone’s targeting Francesca because of you?”
“Why not?” I said, my voice rising despite my best efforts. “It makes sense, doesn’t it? I’m the newest addition to your life. I don’t fit in with the rest of this world, and maybe someone’s using that against you. Using me against you.”
He sighed, a sound that was uncharacteristically weary. For a moment, he just watched me, his gaze softer than I’d ever seen it. It was almost like he was seeing me, truly seeing me, for the first time.
“You’re wrong,” he said finally, his voice gentler than I expected. “This isn’t your fault, Emilia. If anyone is to blame, it’s me. I’m the one who brought you into this. I’m the one who failed to protect you both.”
I blinked at him, stunned. This wasn’t the Alaric I knew-the man who would never admit fault, who always seemed so untouchable, so far removed from everyone around him. He looked… human. Flawed and vulnerable in a way I never thought possible.
“I can’t help but feel responsible,” I whispered. “Maybe if I’d just stayed out of your life, if I’d kept my distance, none of this would have happened. Francesca would be safer.”
Alaric’s expression hardened, but not with anger. It was something else-something softer, almost pained. He stood up abruptly, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. I’d never seen him look so restless, like he couldn’t find the right words no matter how hard he tried.
He paced the room once before turning back to me. “You really think that’s true?” he asked, his voice rough. “You think my life was safer before you came along? Because I can tell you right now, it wasn’t.”
I swallowed hard, caught off guard by his intensity. “What do you mean?”
He took a deep breath, as if gathering his thoughts. “Before you came into our lives, Francesca was alone,” he said, his voice quieter now. “She was looked after, sure, but she wasn’t cared for. Not like how you care for her. She didn’t have anyone who loved her like you do. You’ve given her something I couldn’t. And that’s not a weakness, Emilia. That’s a strength.”
I felt tears welling up again, but this time for a different reason. I hadn’t expected this. I hadn’t expected him to say any of this. Alaric, of all people, was comforting me. The same man who seemed so cold and distant was standing here, telling me I mattered.
“But the letter-” I began.
“The letter isn’t about you,” he cut me off, his voice firm. “It’s about me. Whoever did this is trying to get under my skin, and they succeeded. They knew I’d care if Francesca was threatened, and they knew you’d be the one to find the letter. This isn’t your fault, Emilia. It’s mine for not anticipating it.”
He moved closer, hesitating for a brief second before sitting next to me. The sofa dipped under his weight, and I could feel the heat radiating off him. It was strangely comforting.
“You shouldn’t have kept it from me,” he said, softer now. “But I understand why you did.”
I looked up at him, surprised. “You do?”
He gave a short, almost bitter laugh. “I do. Because I know what it’s like to want to handle things on your own, to not want to be seen as a problem. But you don’t have to do that here, Emilia. Not with me.”
I nodded slowly, processing his words. It was such a strange thing, seeing this side of him. The cracks in his armor were showing, and it made him seem more… real. It made him seem like someone I could actually rely on, not just because he was powerful, but because he cared.
“I’m sorry,” I said again, because it felt important to say it. “I was scared. I didn’t want to make things worse.”
“You won’t make things worse,” he said, and then, almost hesitantly, he reached out, taking my hand in his. My eyes widened in shock. His hand was warm, strong, and it enveloped mine completely. “You’re not alone in this, Emilia. You never were.”
He let out a slow breath, almost like he was letting go of some of his own tension. “Allesio will handle the investigation,” he said, his voice back to its usual confident tone. “And I’m going to make sure you and Francesca are safe. No matter what.”
I nodded, feeling a flicker of hope. For the first time in days, I believed him. “Thank you,” I whispered.
He gave me a small, almost imperceptible smile. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said. “Just promise me you’ll come to me next time. No more secrets.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “No more secrets.”
And for the first time, I felt like I could actually keep that promise.