Chapter 32
Lucia
It took several tense hours for Camille’s fever to finally go down with medicine and water therapy, and even longer for Dante to feel comfortable enough to let her out of his sight. By the time a second doctor gave a cautious nod of approval that she was back at full health, I felt like my legs were made of heavy wet sand.
Although I’m seconds from collapse, I wouldn’t trade a second of the past twenty-four hours. Hearing Camille call DanteDaddywas one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever witnessed in my life.
I’d give up sleep for a year if it guaranteed I’d experience it again.
Now, hours later, after eating the food a maid left in a room that’s far too luxurious for little ol’ me and showering until the steam made me woozy, I’m finally getting ready to rest.
I doubt sleep will come easily. The Caruso compound is a grand palace with soft lighting and expensive furniture, but it reminds me too much of the home I grew up in to feel comfortable here.
Home? Ha! My childhood residence wasn’t a home. It was more like a prison. It just had fancy chandeliers and antiques I wouldn’t dare touch if I wanted to sit comfortably for the following week.
This place feels more welcoming, and the people here don’t look atme like I’m a stain on the family name, but I can’t help but wonder if that sense of homeyness has less to do with the expensive furnishings and more to do with Dante.
Watching how he was with Camille tonight makes me wonder how differently my life might have turned out if my father had loved me like Dante loves Camille.
Even if it costs him everything, he will ensure she is safe and protected.
I should sleep, but I need one last glimpse of Camille to reassure myself that she’s still safe, so I tiptoe down the hallway instead. My bare feet pad silently on the polished floors and pause at Camille’s doorway just in time to hear part of Dante’s bedtime story. It’s about a brave mouse and a dragon who was once afraid of the dark.
When the story ends with the dragon always knowing the mouse will be his light, no matter which path he takes, I caress the hinges of Camille’s door and slowly open it. Heat spreads across my chest when I spot Camille. She’s sleeping peacefully with her head on Dante’s stomach and her tiny arm curled around his waist, as if afraid he’ll disappear if she lets go.
Do you need me?Dante mouths.
Strands of wet hair fall from my messy bun as I shake my head. I don’t want to steal his focus from Camille for even a second.
“I just wanted to say goodnight.”
An imaginary rope lassos around my waist and pulls me closer when he jerks up his chin, inviting me in. Under his watchful eye, I cross the room, my hips stupidly swinging like I’m gracing a catwalk.
It’s impossible not to feel tension this hot, so I don’t understand why I keep trying to ignore it.
The knot in my stomach, which hasn’t loosened for the past day, eases when I brush back a loose curl from Camille’s temple. Her temperature is nearly perfect.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper.
I shoot my hand up to cover my squeak when she replies, “N-night, Lulu.”
Tears burn my eyes as euphoria surges through my veins too intensely to think about sleeping. Lulu was my nickname as a child, and although I don’t have many good memories, the people who called me Lulu are not part of the controversy.
When Camille rolls over to hug her pillow, Dante carefully slips out from under her before tucking a blanket around her. I immaturely drop a quivering lower lip when a sleepy and impossibly sweet “Night, Daddy” peeks out from beneath the pillow fort.
“I don’t ever see that getting old,” I murmur to Dante as he guides me out of Camille’s bedroom with his hand on the small of my back and his grin blazing.
“Me neither,” he admits, walking me to my room.
Our steps are slow and unhurried, neither of us eager to part. When we reach the door, with his hand resting on the doorknob, Dante hesitates.
“Do you have time to talk?” His tone is low, almost careful.
Too exhausted to pretend nothing has changed when everything has, I nod. A major shift has happened between us. It isn’t just about how he saved me or how respectfully he treats Camille. It’s the fact that he didn’t push me away when I tried to help. He let me be part of something that’s usually sacred between a parent and a child.
He let me in.
When we enter my room, Dante wastes no time.
