Chapter 247

Chapter 247
Michael

Richard rolled his eyes, but his expression remained serious. "This isn't about ego or possessiveness. It's about her safety. Kevin's place is better suited." He ran his hand through his perfectly styled hair, messing it up slightly—a rare display of vulnerability. "After everything that happened... I just want her safe. That's all that matters now."

I nodded, impressed by his willingness to put Isabella's needs above his own desire to keep her close. That was growth.

"She can move over after breakfast," Kevin said, placing the final dish on the counter—some kind of heavenly French toast dusted with powdered sugar and cinnamon. "I'll have my security team set up additional protective measures this afternoon."

"Perfect," Richard agreed, shifting into business mode. "We should also arrange a meeting with the detective to review the evidence and discuss next steps for finding that bastard."

The kettle clicked off, and I busied myself preparing tea for Isabella, selecting her favorite blend from Richard's collection. As I waited for the leaves to steep, watching the water turn a deep amber, a comfortable silence filled the kitchen. Despite the gravity of our situation, there was an undeniable rightness to all of this—the three of us working together to protect our girl.

"Someone should go wake her," Richard eventually said, glancing at the clock. "Food's getting cold."

"I'll go," I volunteered quickly, perhaps too eagerly, because Richard feigned a scowl. My heart quickened at the thought of seeing her peaceful in sleep, being the one to welcome her to a new day, a new beginning.

"Goddamn," he muttered, though his eyes sparkled with amusement. "Always trying to be the fucking teacher's pet, aren't you?"

Kevin did roll his eyes at both of us, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. "Set the table," he commanded, releasing enough of his aura to make it clear he wasn't asking. But the rare gleam in his eye told me he was enjoying this domestic scene as much as we were.

I smiled as I walked toward Richard's bedroom, my steps quickening with anticipation. Our Isabella had changed all of us in ways we were only beginning to understand. She'd brought light and warmth to our lives, challenged us, and ultimately made us better.

When I entered the bedroom, it was dark, the heavy blackout curtains still drawn against the midday sun. I moved quietly, allowing my eyes to adjust to the darkness until I could make out the small bump under the covers. The sight warmed my heart.

Isabella was curled into a tight little ball in the center of Richard's massive bed, the covers pulled up to her chin. Her dark hair spread across the pillow in a tangle, and her face, what I could see of it, finally looked peaceful in sleep. I carefully sat on the edge of the bed, not wanting to startle her, the mattress dipping slightly under my weight.

I gently pulled the covers back just enough to see her more clearly. She wore one of Richard's t-shirts, the fabric swallowing her petite frame. She was curled in the fetal position, making herself look even smaller than she was.

I smoothed a small crease from her forehead with my hand. Even in sleep, some tension remained. I wondered what she was dreaming about, hoping it was pleasant dreams rather than the nightmares that had likely plagued her for weeks. The thought of her waking alone in that rundown apartment, terrified, made my jaw clench with anger.

Running my fingers through her silken hair, I took a moment to study her face. Despite the hollows beneath her cheekbones—evidence of her weight loss—she was still the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen. My thumb traced lightly over her cheekbone, feeling the delicate bone structure beneath her skin. I understood now why she'd pushed us away—to protect us, at her own expense.

The thought made me smile, warmth spreading through my chest. Our stubborn, brave little omega trying to protect three alphas from danger, sacrificing her own happiness and safety. It was both absurd and touching. My chest ached with pride, tenderness, and lingering anger at everything she'd endured alone.

"We're going to make you happy again," I promised softly, tracing the delicate line of her jaw with my fingertips. "No more fear, no more running. Just us, taking care of you the way you deserve." My voice was barely audible, more a whisper to my own heart than to her sleeping ears.

"Are you planning to stare at her all day or actually wake her up?" Richard's amused voice came from the doorway, making me jump slightly. I'd been so absorbed in contemplating Isabella that I hadn't heard him approach.

I glanced back at him, my hand still in Isabella's hair. "Get out," I mouthed silently, shooing him away with my free hand, though I couldn't help but smile. The affection in his eyes as he looked at Isabella mirrored my own. For all our competitive banter, we were united in this—our love for her.

Richard lingered a moment longer, his expression softening as he watched the sleeping Isabella, then nodded to me and retreated back to the kitchen, his footsteps nearly silent on the plush carpet.

Turning back to Isabella, I cupped her cheek gently, my thumb caressing her soft skin. "Beautiful," I said softly, "time to wake up. Kevin has prepared a feast for you." I watched for signs of waking, my heart speeding up.

She stirred slightly but didn't open her eyes, just nuzzled into my palm like a small kitten seeking warmth. The action caught my breath.

"Isabella," I tried again, a little louder, stroking her hair, letting my fingers tangle in the black strands. "Wake up, sweetheart. There's food waiting for you."

After several repetitions, her eyelids finally fluttered open. For a moment, she looked confused, blinking up at me with disoriented eyes, vulnerability written across her face. Then recognition dawned, and a genuine, beautiful smile bloomed across her face, lighting up her eyes in a way I hadn't seen in far too long.

"Michael?" she said, my name like a prayer on her lips, her voice husky from sleep, her eyes sparkling with joy at the sight of me. The sound constricted my chest.

My heart did a ridiculous little skip in my chest like a damn teenager with his first crush. "Good morning, sleeping beauty," I grinned, unable to hide the affection in my voice. "Or should I say good afternoon? How did you sleep?" My hand continued to stroke her hair, unwilling to break the physical contact.

Isabella yawned, stretching like a cat with her arms extended above her head before relaxing back against the pillow. "I don't remember the last time I slept so well," she admitted, sitting up slightly. "No terrible dreams for once."

The simple statement made my chest hurt, anger flashing briefly in my gut. How long had she endured alone, plagued by nightmares we knew nothing about? I wanted to tear the culprit apart with my bare hands.

"What time is it?" she asked, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, looking adorably disheveled.

"Just past twelve," I told her, brushing back a strand of hair that had fallen across her face, letting my fingers linger on her warm skin. "We would have let you sleep longer, but Kevin made a mountain of food, and he insists you need to eat."

Her eyes widened slightly, surprise and delight mingling in her expression. "Kevin cooked? Really?"

I nodded, amused by her reaction, a soft chuckle escaping my lips. "Yes, really. You should feel special—that big guy doesn't cook for just anyone." I leaned in conspiratorially. "Between us, I think he's been planning this feast since dawn. He spent at least twenty minutes arranging the strawberries just right."