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Azalea

The sound of the front door opening made my heart skip with relief. I had been sitting on the living room sofa for the past hour, pretending to read a book but really just watching the clock and listening for any sign of Adriano’s return.

“You’re back!” I said, practically jumping up from my seat the moment I saw him walk through the door.

Without thinking, I rushed over and wrapped my arms around him in a tight hug. Over the past few weeks, being close to Adriano had become as natural as breathing. His presence made me feel safe and cherished in ways I had never experienced before.

“Yes, honey,” he murmured against my hair, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. “Did you miss me?”

Heat rushed to my cheeks as I pulled back and gave his chest a playful smack. “No,” I lied, trying to sound casual, even though we both knew it wasn’t true.

Adriano raised one eyebrow and stepped back just enough to gently pinch my burning cheeks. “Really? Who could believe such an obvious lie?”

“You will,” I said with a mischievous smile, “because you believe everything I say.” I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the sofa. “Now come sit down and tell me about your day.”

He let me guide him to the couch, and I settled beside him, close enough that our knees were touching.

“How was work today?” I asked, studying his handsome face. There was something different about his expression—a tension around his eyes that hadn’t been there this morning.

“It was stressful,” he admitted, running a hand through his dark hair. “But seeing you now makes everything better. You have that effect on me, you know.”

His words sent butterflies dancing through my stomach. Even after all this time, Adriano still had the power to make me feel like a teenager with her first crush. The way he looked at me, like I was the most precious thing in his world, never failed to take my breath away.

But I could tell something was bothering him, so I decided to address what I’d heard on the news earlier.

“I’m so sorry about your family,” I said gently, reaching out to take his hand. “I saw the news report about the accident. It must be such a shock.”

The change in Adriano was immediate and heartbreaking. His strong shoulders seemed to crumble, and his eyes filled with tears I had never seen before.

“I can’t believe they’re really gone,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “If I had known that yesterday would be the last time I’d ever see them alive, I would have handled things differently. I would have been kinder and more forgiving.”

Tears began streaming down his face—this powerful, intimidating man who commanded respect from everyone he met was crying like a lost child.

“I was so angry with them for coming to my office uninvited,” he continued. “I said terrible things. I even...” He stopped and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. They’re gone, and I can never take back my last words to them.”

My heart shattered seeing him in such pain. Without hesitation, I pulled him into my arms, holding him as tightly as I could.

“I’m so sorry, my love,” I whispered, stroking his hair as he buried his face against my shoulder. “I know how much this hurts.”

Adriano clung to me like I was his lifeline, his whole body shaking with grief. “I’ll never see my father again, Azalea. Never get the chance to make things right between us.”

His words brought back my own painful memories of loss. I remembered the devastating day when I learned that my parents had died in a car accident.

“I understand,” I responded softly. “When I lost my parents, I felt exactly the same way. The guilt, the regret and the feeling that there were so many things left unsaid.”

We stayed like that for what felt like hours, holding each other as he grieved. I whispered comforting words and rubbed soothing circles on his back, trying to absorb some of his pain into myself.

“Sometimes grief hits in waves,” I told him. “One moment you think you’re okay, and the next moment it feels like you’re drowning. That’s normal. It’s part of healing.”

Eventually, Adriano’s tears slowed, though he continued to hold me close.

“I need to go to our room,” he announced suddenly, his voice hoarse from crying. “I just... I need some space to process this.”

I studied his face carefully. Everyone grieved differently, and I wanted to respect whatever he needed right now.

“Of course,” I said, standing up and offering him my hand. “Do you want me to come with you, or would you prefer to be alone for a while?”

“Come with me,” he said immediately, gripping my hand like he was afraid I might disappear. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

As we walked toward our bedroom, I decided to try lifting his spirits with some good news.

“How is Amira adjusting to her new school?” he asked, as if reading my mind.

My face lit up with genuine happiness. “She absolutely loves it, Adriano. This morning she was so excited to go that she was ready an hour early. She’s already made two new friends, and her teacher says she’s incredibly bright.”

I saw a small smile cross his face.

“That makes me happy,” he stated. “She deserves to have a normal, happy childhood.”

“All thanks to you,” I said, squeezing his hand. “You’ve given both of us more than we ever dreamed possible.”

“Where is she now?” he asked.

“In her room, probably fast asleep,” I replied. “She had such a big day that she was exhausted by dinnertime.”

The room we had decorated for Amira was like something from a fairy tale—soft pink walls, a beautiful canopy bed, shelves full of books and toys, and a large window overlooking the garden. Adriano had spared no expense in making sure she felt like a princess.

When we reached our bedroom door, I turned to face him, my heart full of gratitude.

“Thank you, Adriano,” I said, meaning every word. “For everything you’ve done for us. For giving Amira a chance at a real future. For taking care of us when you didn’t have to. For showing me what it feels like to be truly cared for.”

I paused, gathering my courage before continuing. “I know our marriage started as a threat, but you’ve become so much more to me than I ever expected. I want you to know that you’re not alone in your grief. Whatever you need, whatever you’re going through, I’m here.”

Adriano stared at me for a long moment, his dark eyes intense with emotion.

“Azalea,” he said softly, “you and Amira have become my whole world. I never thought I was capable of caring about anyone the way I care about you two. You’ve changed me in ways I didn’t know were possible.”

He reached up to cup my face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away tears I didn’t realize had started falling.

“When I lost my family today, my first thought wasn’t about the business implications or the legal complications,” he continued. “My first thought was that I needed to come home to you. You’ve become my safe place, my peace, and my reason for everything.”

The intensity of his words took my breath away.

“I’m not good with words when it comes to feelings,” he admitted. “But I need you to know that you’re not in debt to me. What we have... it’s not about owing each other anything. It’s about choosing each other, every single day.”

Before I could respond, he leaned down and kissed me. Not the gentle, careful kisses we’d shared before, but something full of desperate need and raw emotion. It was the kiss of a man who had lost everything except the one thing that mattered most.

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard.

“Let’s go inside,” I whispered, taking his hand and leading him into our room.

As I watched him sit heavily on the edge of our bed, his strong shoulders bowed with exhaustion and grief, I realized that I was falling in love with this complicated, dangerous, and tender man.

Maybe I had been falling for weeks now and just hadn’t been brave enough to admit it to myself.

But seeing him vulnerable like this, trusting me with his pain and letting me comfort him, made me understand that what I felt for Adriano Giordani was far more than gratitude or attraction.

It was love. Real, deep, and transformative love.