Eternal Devotion

The Vitale mansion was unusually lively for a post-mission evening. Dante sat shirtless on the couch, his wounds being cleaned by an exasperated Isabella. His jaw clenched, trying not to flinch, but the occasional wince betrayed him.

"I told you to go to the doctor" Isabella muttered, dabbing at a particularly deep gash. Her stern tone made Dante pout, but he quickly masked it with a scowl.

"I'm not going to a doctor" he grumbled, sounding more like a petulant child than the feared Il Diavolo. "You're better at this anyway."

"Oh, don't even try that" Isabella shot back, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. "You're only saying that because you know you'll lose this argument."

Across the room, Clara sat on the arm of a chair, gawking openly at Mikhail, who stood near the window, exuding an intimidating yet magnetic presence. "He's so handsome" Clara whispered to no one in particular, her cheeks flushing.

Matteo, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, shot her an irritated glare. "Clara" he hissed, "stop drooling over him. He's like… forty."

"And yet" Clara replied dreamily, ignoring Matteo's irritation, "he still looks better than half the men I know."

Mikhail smirked slightly, clearly aware of her attention, but his eyes were focused elsewhere. Isabella noticed it immediately—how his sharp, blue gaze lingered on her mother, Lucia, who stood with her arms crossed, unusually restless.

"Hmm" Isabella murmured under her breath, observing the way Lucia avoided Mikhail's eyes. She turned back to Dante and whispered, "Looks like I'm not the only one who has some explaining to do."

"What are you whispering about?" Dante asked suspiciously, his sharp eyes narrowing on her.

"Nothing" Isabella replied innocently before turning her attention back to Mikhail. "So" she said loudly enough to catch everyone's attention, "how do you know my mother?"

Mikhail, who had been leaning casually against the wall, straightened slightly. "Your mother and I" he began, his voice smooth and nonchalant, "have… history."

Lucia's head snapped up, her sharp intake of breath audible. "Mikhail" she hissed warningly, her tone laced with both irritation and warning.

"Oh?" Isabella said, her tone light but her expression amused as her eyes darted between the two. "What kind of history?"

"None of your business" Lucia snapped quickly, her face tinged with color as she glared at Mikhail.

"I'd say it's my business" Isabella replied, her grin widening. "You're my mother, after all."

Mikhail, unfazed by Lucia's growing irritation, looked at Isabella with a faint smile. "Your mother is a remarkable woman" he said simply. "I owe her a great deal. And as you've probably noticed, I can't say no to her."

Isabella tilted her head, her amusement only growing. "Oh, I noticed" she replied, her voice light with mischief. Her eyes flicked back to her mother, who was looking increasingly flustered. "I have to say, I wouldn't mind a handsome stepfather like you."

Lucia gasped, her composure snapping. "Isabella!" she exclaimed, her voice scandalized. "You're shameless!"

Isabella merely grinned. "I'm just saying" she replied, entirely unbothered as her mother stomped away toward the kitchen.

Mikhail chuckled, his amusement evident. "She's got your spirit" he said to Lucia's retreating form before turning back to Isabella. "And for the record, I wouldn't mind a daughter like you either."

"Mikhail!" Lucia's voice rang out from the kitchen, furious and embarrassed.

With a slight smirk, Mikhail turned on his heel. "I should take my leave" he said, offering a polite nod to Dante and Isabella. "Goodnight."

Mikhail walked out the door like an obedient puppy, leaving a trail of laughter in his wake.

As soon as the door closed, Clara burst out laughing, wiping tears from her eyes. "It's definitely a mother-daughter thing" she said between giggles. "Taming the tigers."

Clara was still laughing when Isabella turned her mischievous gaze on her. "You're one to talk, Clara" she quipped. "You're no better than me or my mother when it comes to taming the wild ones."

Clara froze mid-laugh, her cheeks turning pink. "Excuse me?" she said, feigning indignation. "Do you know how unruly Matteo can be? It's a full-time job keeping him in line."

"Oh, unruly, am I?" Matteo piped up, his eyes glinting with playful defiance. He stepped closer to Clara, a sly smile curling on his lips. "Admit it, you love every second of it."

Clara rolled her eyes dramatically, but a small smile tugged at her lips. "Love? Please. I tolerate you."

Matteo's grin widened as he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. "Tolerate me, huh?" he murmured, his tone dropping to something suspiciously smooth. "Then why are you blushing every time I look at you?"

"Oh, God" Isabella groaned, putting a hand to her forehead as she turned to Dante. "Are we really witnessing this right now?"

Dante cringed visibly, his lips pressing into a tight line. "I think my wounds are less painful than this" he muttered, shifting uncomfortably.

But Matteo was undeterred. He cupped Clara's cheek, leaning down slightly as if they were the only two people in the room. "Admit it" he whispered dramatically. "You've fallen for my rugged charm, Clara. I'm the moon to your stars, the—"

"Stop!" Isabella interrupted, throwing a pillow at him. "I'm going to lose my dinner if you keep this up."

"Same" Dante muttered, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

Matteo caught the pillow mid-air with a flourish, still grinning. "What? Can't handle a little romance?"

"Romance?" Dante deadpanned. "That was an assault on our dignity."

Clara swatted at Matteo's chest, trying and failing to suppress her laughter. "Would you stop being so cheesy in front of everyone?"

"Never" Matteo declared proudly, planting a kiss on her forehead. "Love should be celebrated, Clara. Loudly. Dramatically. Poetically."

"Painfully" Dante added under his breath, earning a stifled laugh from Isabella.

As Clara giggled and Matteo continued his theatrics, Isabella sighed and leaned closer to Dante. "I guess taming tigers isn't so bad" she whispered.

Dante raised a brow. "I'd rather tame wolves."

"Good" Isabella replied with a smirk. "Because you're stuck with this one."

_

_

_

The house had finally quieted after everyone left, leaving Dante and Isabella alone in the warm, dimly lit living room. The faint crackle of the fireplace filled the silence, but the tension between them lingered, heavy and unspoken.

Dante sat on the couch, his torso still bandaged from the injuries he refused to properly tend to, his usually sharp eyes softer now as they rested on Isabella. She stood near the fireplace, arms wrapped around herself as if trying to shield herself from the overwhelming tide of emotions that had been threatening to drown them both.

"I almost lost you" Dante said quietly, his voice breaking the silence. It was rough, raw, and filled with an uncharacteristic vulnerability. "Do you know what that did to me? When I was tied up in that warehouse, when I thought I wouldn't make it out… all I could think about was you."

Isabella turned to face him, her heart clenching at the anguish in his voice. "And do you know what it did to me when I found out you were gone?" she shot back, her voice trembling. "My world shattered, Dante. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. The thought of losing you… it was like someone ripped my heart out."

He rose slowly from the couch, wincing slightly at the pain in his side, but his focus remained solely on her. "You shouldn't have come" he said, his tone conflicted. "It was too dangerous, Isabella. You could have—"

"Stop" she interrupted, stepping closer to him. "Don't you dare tell me I shouldn't have come. You're my husband, Dante. My life. Did you think I would just sit at home while you were out there, fighting for your life?"

His jaw tightened as he struggled to find the words. "I can't lose you" he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're everything to me, Isabella. If something had happened to you—"

"Then we would have gone together" she said fiercely, her eyes blazing with unshed tears. "Don't you understand? I don't care about the danger, Dante. I would walk through fire for you. I'd face anything, anyone, just to make sure you're safe."

His breath hitched, and he reached out, cupping her face with trembling hands. "You're my everything, Isabella. My strength, my peace, my madness. I've never loved anyone the way I love you." His voice cracked, and he pressed his forehead against hers. "You make me want to be better, to be worthy of you. But I can't protect you if you keep throwing yourself into the fire for me."

She placed her hands over his, her tears finally spilling over. "And I can't stand by and watch you get hurt, Dante. Don't you see? You're the reason I'm strong. You taught me to fight, to survive. I won't let you face this world alone. I love you too much for that."

He closed his eyes, his emotions overwhelming him as he pulled her into his arms. "I love you" he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "I love you more than I can put into words, Isabella. You're my everything. My light in the dark."

"And you're mine" she replied softly, clutching him as tightly as she could without hurting him. "My devil, my protector, my husband. I'll always fight for you, Dante. Always."

They stood there, holding each other as if the world outside didn't exist, their love an unbreakable shield against the chaos and pain they'd endured. For the first time in days, they felt a sense of peace, their fears and doubts melting away in the warmth of each other's embrace.