Chapter 97 – Aftermath of the Hearing

Chapter 97 – Aftermath of the Hearing
(Levi & Luca’s POV)

The courthouse emptied around us, but the echo of Daniel’s words still lingered like a poison in the air. She’ll come back to me. She always does.

Levi clenched his fists until his knuckles cracked. He wanted nothing more than to storm back through those doors and silence Daniel for good. But the gavel had fallen, and law—not fists—would decide this battle.

I—Luca—kept my arm locked around Eden’s shoulders as we led her down the hallway. Every flash from a reporter’s camera felt like another violation, another reminder that our private nightmare had been dragged into the public. Eden kept her chin high, but I could feel her trembling. She’d been so strong in there, facing him, refusing to flinch—but the tremor in her body told me the weight of it was settling in.

We shielded her as best we could, Harper keeping the press at bay, Morales shoving questions aside until we made it to the van. Eden sank into the seat between us, her head dropping against my chest.

For a long moment, the engine was the only sound.

Levi broke first, his voice rough. “I can’t stand it. Hearing him talk about her like she’s some… some possession. Like he has a claim.”

My grip tightened on Eden’s shoulder. “He’s already lost. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

Levi’s jaw ticked. “I should’ve seen it. The partner, the delays, the way evidence kept getting lost in translation. We were blind, Luca. Blind while she was suffering.”

“Don’t,” I warned, because guilt was a rabbit hole we couldn’t afford to crawl into. “Daniel’s sickness is on him. Not us.”

But inside, I felt it too. That same gnawing failure. We had promised her safety, whispered words of forever, and then she was ripped from us.

Levi turned to the window, but his reflection looked hollow. “We never told her.”

I knew what he meant, but I asked anyway, my voice barely above a whisper. “Told her what?”

“That we love her.” His throat worked, hard. “We thought we had time. Thought she knew, even without the words. And then she was gone.”

The ache in my chest deepened, because he was right. I’d held it back, too afraid of scaring her, too afraid of ruining the fragile balance we had built. But now—after months of not knowing if she was alive—I realized the cowardice in silence.

“We’ll tell her,” I said firmly. “Tonight. Tomorrow. Every damn day if we have to. She won’t ever doubt it again.”

The van slowed at a red light, and the city hummed around us. But for us, time moved differently now. Eden shifted against me, murmuring something too soft to catch before sleep pulled her under. She was exhausted, the kind of exhaustion that went deeper than bone.

Levi watched her, the harshness in his eyes softening. “She doesn’t deserve to carry those scars, Luca. Not the burns, not the nightmares, not the memories he shoved on her.”

“No,” I agreed. “But she won’t carry them alone. That’s what we can give her.”

We fell into silence again, the kind where words were useless. I traced my thumb over the curve of Eden’s shoulder, grounding myself in the reality that she was here, breathing, alive.

Later, back at the penthouse, we laid her on the bed and let her sleep while Harper stayed close. For the first time in months, the house felt whole, though shadows still clung to the corners.

When Harper finally slipped out, leaving the three of us, Levi dropped heavily into a chair, rubbing both hands over his face. “You saw Morales’s face, didn’t you? He thinks Daniel will drag this out. He’ll claim insanity, leverage his badge, spin every trick he knows.”

“Let him try,” I said. My voice surprised me with its edge. “He’s not getting near her again. I’ll burn the world down before I let that happen.”

Levi stared at me, and for once, he didn’t argue. “We’re on the same page then.”

A soft sound drew our attention back to the bed. Eden stirred, lashes fluttering, lips parting as if caught in a dream. I crossed to her side, brushing damp strands of hair from her forehead. She didn’t wake, but her hand found mine instinctively, curling around it.

Levi stood and came closer, his gaze fixed on her face. “We’ll tell her tomorrow,” he said again, voice steady now.

“No,” I whispered, squeezing her hand. “We’ll tell her tonight.”

Levi met my eyes, and the weight of everything unsaid hung between us. This wasn’t just love anymore—it was a vow.

Daniel had tried to steal her, to rewrite her story. But standing in the dim light of our room, watching Eden breathe in peace, I knew the ending belonged to us.