The night pressed close around the cabin quiet, too quiet.
Inside, the storm had passed, but the air still hummed with what hadn't been said.
Damian stood near the window, his silhouette sharp against the pale moonlight.
Isabella sat on the couch, wrapped in one of his shirts, her knees pulled to her chest.
Every few seconds, his gaze flicked to her protective, possessive, but softer than he'd ever allow anyone else to see.
Luca entered quietly, his boots barely making a sound on the wooden floor.
"Perimeter's clear," he said, voice low. "Sophia's out back, double-checking the route to the main road."
Damian nodded, still staring out the window.
"Good.
No mistakes tonight."
Luca hesitated before speaking again.
"You don't trust her, do you?"
Damian's jaw tightened.
"I trust Isabella. That's enough for now."
That was all the confirmation Luca needed.
He gave a short nod and stepped outside.
