Chapter 5 - The Healing in the Tower
Three days passed.
The penthouse at Cavallaro Tower had been placed under absolute isolation. The private elevators were locked, guarded round-the-clock by Dante’s most loyal men.
In the master bedroom, the heavy velvet drapes had been pulled back, allowing the soft afternoon sunlight to flood the room.
Sophie sat propped up against a mountain of plush pillows. She wore a soft cream-colored cashmere sweater that belonged to Dante, the sleeves rolled up to cover the heavy bandages on her forearms.
Her face was still bruised, but the color had begun to return to her cheeks.
The bedroom door clicked open softly. Dante stepped inside carrying a silver tray with a bowl of homemade chicken broth and a glass of fresh orange juice.
Sophie looked up, a tiny, tentative smile touching her lips. "You're playing room service again, Mr. Cavallaro?"
Dante stopped in his tracks, a rare, genuine warmth softening his harsh features. "I told you not to call me 'Mr. Cavallaro' six months ago, Sophie."
He set the tray on the bedside table and sat down on the edge of the mattress. He reached out, gently stirring the soup with a spoon before offering it to her.
Sophie took a slow sip, swallowing with difficulty before leaning back against the pillows.
"Where is he?" she asked quietly, her eyes searching his face. "Julian."
Dante set the spoon down. His expression didn't change, but his eyes grew dark. "He is being kept in a place where he will never see the sun again. His trial before the Syndicate Council is tomorrow night."
"Dante..." Sophie reached out, her small, thin hand resting over his large, scarred knuckles. "Don't ruin your soul for revenge. I survived. I'm here."
Dante looked down at her small hand. He turned his palm over, intertwining his fingers with hers, marveling at how delicate she was—and how impossibly strong she had proven to be.
"He tried to destroy you, Sophie," Dante said softly. "He tried to make me hate the only good thing that ever walked into this dark house."
"I was never afraid of you, Dante," Sophie whispered, her brown eyes shining with tears. "Even when they showed me the fake news reports saying you wanted me dead... I knew in my heart you wouldn't hurt me. That's why I kept the codes hidden. Because as long as I held them, I knew they couldn't take your company away from you."
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Dante leaned in, pressing his forehead gently against hers. He could smell the clean scent of lavender soap on her skin, mixed with the faint, lingering scent of his own cologne on her sweater.
"You saved me, Sophie," Dante murmured, his voice trembling. "Now let me save you."
