Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Isabella’s POV
Today was…emotionally exhausting.
From the meeting with the investors that didn’t go too well—they were demanding a twenty-five percent profit from Crane’s start-up in Virginia, which was ridiculous to say the least—to walking into my office and finding Dimitri there with my daughter.
And eventually spending the entire afternoon with him.
I sighed, smoothening Adele’s hair and adjusting her blanket.
She’d fallen asleep in the middle of telling her yet another bedtime story about the dragon prince.
I smiled faintly at her peaceful frame as she breathed lightly.
Adele was always a happy child, but there was something in her smile today when she was with Dimitri.
There was a comfort, a satisfaction I’d never seen before.
The first time she asked me about her father was at her school’s end-of-term party.
Most of her classmates’ parents came in twos—the full package: father, mother, and child.
I was the only one who came alone. She’d tried not to act bothered by it, tried to be brave the entire evening, but when they called for the father-daughter dance, I saw her face fall.
I noticed how sad she’d been for the rest of the party, and during the unusually quiet drive home, she’d looked up at me with questioning eyes and asked, “Mommy, why don’t I have a father? ”
I had never felt my heart break quite like that. Crane had been a steady presence in her life, but there was only so much he could do. I’d known she’d ask this question one day, but I didn’t envision it would come so soon. Not when she was four.
All I could tell her was that her father wasn’t around—and might not be for a long time.
Now, watching her breathe in quiet rhythm, replaying how natural she’d acted around Dimitri, how her laughter melted his usually stoic face, how his voice softened every time he said her name, I couldn’t stop wondering.
Would it really be so wrong to let Adele know who her father truly was? To let them bond?
I sighed again, exhaustion weighing on every muscle. I needed sleep. I needed to forget this day. After kissing her hair, I quietly shut her door and padded into the kitchen for a glass of water. The buzzer in the living room rings, jolting through the silence.
I glanced at the wall clock. It was only eight-thirty, but I wasn’t expecting a delivery or anything.
I moved into the living room and answered.
“Ms. Crawford,” Anderson, the penthouse receptionist, said. “There’s someone here to see you. He says his name is Dimitri Ravencrest.”
I froze. Dimitri? What the hell was he doing here at this hour? And how the hell did he find my address?
Then again, I shouldn’t have been surprised. Dimitri had resources—and by resources, I meant Edmund. He could find anything and anyone with just a name. That was why I’d changed my name five years ago.
“Should I send him up, ma’am?” Anderson asked when I didn’t answer.
I should’ve said no.
But instead, I found myself saying, “Yes, Anderson. Send him up.”
It was to give him a stern warning not to show up at my office or my home, I told myself. But deep down, I wanted to see him.
Once the call ended, I looked down at myself. I was wearing a bathrobe, my hair was a disheveled mess as I’d just gotten out of the shower before Adele insisted I tell her another bedtime story, so I hadn’t had the time to comb it. I was in slippers.
In short, I was in no state to receive a visitor.
I rushed into my room, pulled on the first dress in my drawer, and twisted my hair into a bun—messy, but better than nothing—and came out just as the doorbell rang.
I opened the door, and my heart skipped a beat. I hated when it did that.
Dimitri stood with his hands thrust into his pockets.
Gone was the tailored suit he’d worn earlier that afternoon.
In its place was a long-sleeved thermal shirt and jeans.
He had sneakers on his feet. His hair was damp, the ends curling slightly at his neck like he’d just showered, and he smelled faintly of lavender and soap, a clean, heady scent my wolf immediately leaned into.
Seeing Dimitri like this—casual—was rare.
And apparently, not good for my nervous system.
His gaze swept over me. Slow. Deliberate. It wasn’t a glance—it was an inspection, a silent tease. Only now did I realize that the dress I’d worn, despite how long it was, was thin. Thin enough that my nipples poked through, leaving his gaze lingering too long on my chest. Great.
I crossed my arms over my chest, forcing my expression into something that resembled indifference. “What are you doing here, Dimitri?”
“At least you’ve stopped with that goddamn formality that stabs my brain every time you say my name.” His tone was quiet, but rough at the edges. “May I come in?”
I hesitated, then turned away, leaving the door open. “Adele’s sleeping,” I said. “So, let’s talk outside.”
I glanced over my shoulder as he walked in, taking in the simple living room.
It wasn’t anything spectacular. I’d only rented the place two weeks ago, so it was furnished in a basic, neutral way.
I’d added a portrait of Adele and me to make it feel a bit like home.
Still, it wasn’t permanent, because I didn’t know how long we’d be in Virginia.
The cool night air brushed against my skin as we stepped onto the balcony. Dimitri’s eyes moved over the city skyline—lights stretching endlessly into the horizon, the movement of cars in the bustling city below us—before finally settling on me.
“It’s a beautiful view,” he said.
The way he said it made me unsure whether he was talking about the city…or something else.
“You didn’t answer my question earlier,” I said, shifting my weight. “Why are you here?”
He didn’t respond right away. He just stared, eyes burning into mine as though trying to peel back every layer of me he’d lost. My chest tightened under that gaze.
“Look, Dimitri, I’m really tired, and—”
“What did you tell her?” he interrupted.
My brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”
“When she asked about her father,” he said, voice low but sharp. “What did you tell her?”
The question hit me like a punch to the gut. For a moment, I couldn’t find my voice.
“I told her that her father wasn’t around,” I finally said. “That he might not be around for a long time.”
Something flickered in his eyes—anger, yes, but underneath it…pain.
“So, you were just going to let our child grow up thinking her father abandoned her?” His tone wasn’t raised, but it was heavy, trembling at the edges. “That I abandoned her?”
“Dimitri—”
“Do you know what it’s like to grow up thinking your father didn’t care enough to stay?
” He took a step toward me, his eyes distant, as though he was lost in a memory.
“We went hunting every Friday, my father and I. It was the only time I ever saw him smile. I planned every route, every track, just to make sure we’d catch something.
And then one week, he just left. Tuesday, gone.
Wednesday, gone. I told myself he’d never miss a Friday.
But by Friday, I waited in the woods, thinking he’d come, hoping he cared enough to come. He never did.”
His eyes glistened. His voice softened into something that sounded broken.
“Do you know what that feels like, Isabella?”
I swallowed.
Yes, I did. I grew up without a father, too. My mother had tried to fill the void, and then Uncle Asher came along and made it better—for a while. But even then, the ache never really went away. But I knew it wasn’t the same as knowing a father who walked away from you.
“I swore I would never let my child feel that kind of pain,” he said, his jaw tightening. “But you…you took that from me.”
“Well, what was I supposed to do?” I snapped. “You rejected me in front of an entire pack that already saw me as nothing more than a whore’s daughter. They already saw me as the reason their beloved Alpha abandoned them. You stood by and watched them humiliate me!”
My voice cracked, the memories slicing through my chest.
“Tell me, Dimitri,” I whispered now. “What would you have had me do?”
Regret flickered through his hardened expression. “You should have called me,” he said quietly.
“And told you what? That I was carrying your child? Was I supposed to say, please, Dimitri, take me back into your pack?”
“It is your pack, too. You were always part of the pack.”
I laughed bitterly. “No, I wasn’t. You know that. Everyone hated me. And I thought you were different. I thought you saw me. Hell, I thought you even loved me. But you only just wanted to fuck me, didn’t you?”
His eyes widened like I’d just struck him, devastation cutting deep into his features. “Is that what you’ve thought all this time, Isabella?”
My throat tightened. “What else was I supposed to think? It was the best night of my life—and the next day you froze me out like I meant nothing. You ghosted me, Dimitri. I spent three weeks crying myself to sleep, staring at my phone, praying you’d call. Each night, silence.”
“I was thinking of you,” he said hoarsely. “Every fucking minute of the day.”
“Then why did you reject me?!” The words tore out of me—broken, loud, raw. Tears burned my eyes, rolling down my cheeks.
He took a step forward, but I backed away. “No, Dimitri. You don’t come here and get to play the victim. You don’t get to demand why I kept my child away from you after what you did to me. How the hell was I supposed to trust you with protecting her when you couldn’t even protect me?”
Dimitri’s eyes shut, and he winced like my words cut straight through him. When he opened them again, they were filled with pain, regret, and sadness, all at once
“Isabella…” his voice came out as a broken whisper. “If I could take back that night, I—”
“Well, you can’t.” Another tear slipped down my cheek. “You made your choice, Dimitri. I’ve had to live with that choice—and I’ve moved on.”
“Well, I can’t move on, Isabella. I haven’t been able to move on. I’ve spent five years wanting—no, needing—your scent around me. Turning the whole damn country inside out looking for you. I was empty without you.”
“But isn’t that what you wanted?” I whispered. “That’s what you chose.”
“And I regret that choice every goddamn day!” He shot back. “I’m here trying to fix this. To make up for lost time. To right everything I did wrong between us.”
“You don’t have to do any of that. I didn’t ask you to do any of that,” I said, shaking my head. “Like I told you—I’ve moved on from the past. You mean nothing to me, Dimitri.”
There was a stillness in the air as I said the last sentence. Dimitri froze, his gaze going dark. “You don’t mean that.”
I swallowed. “I do.”
In two strides, he crossed the distance between us before I could react, standing just inches away from me. He observed the way my body locked up, the way my eyes widened, the way my breath hitched. Then his voice dropped, and with more certainty this time, he said, “You don’t mean that.”
God, how I wanted to prove him wrong. But being this close—his scent filling every inch of me, the heat of his body from being this close—it was too much.
And even then, I wanted more. But I couldn’t afford to let myself have more, to make that mistake I’d made in his study five years ago when I’d let my guard down.
So, I put an arm between us, desperate to keep space between us, but Dimitri caught my wrist and pulled me into him. One arm slid around my waist, and my pulse went wild.
With his finger, he tilted my chin up to meet his gaze. And I saw it—the rush of desire in his eyes, the way his eyes burned with the same hunger I remembered. My wolf whined restlessly.
“Tell me you don’t feel anything, Isabella,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to mine.
I couldn’t. My lips parted, but no words came out.
His finger traced my jawline, featherlight. My eyes fluttered shut as I leaned into his touch, soaking in the warmth I hadn’t realized I’d missed for so long.
“You mean everything to me, Isabella,” he whispered, his breath hot against my skin. “You and Adele. And I don’t think I can stay away anymore, no matter how much longer you fight me.”
The reasonable thing would be to pull away.
But reason drowned under the gravity of what I felt. Of what my body wanted. Of what my wolf wanted.
My eyes closed. My lips parted. I leaned up—wanting, needing—to kiss him.
Dimitri leaned in, too. Our lips had just touched when his phone buzzed in his pocket.
I jerked away from him like I’d been burned. And just like that, reality crashed over me like ice water. My cheeks were flushed, my heart hammering so loudly in my chest that my wolf was restless.
“You need to go,” I said, already moving toward the living room.
“Isabella—”
“No, Dimitri.” My voice was almost pleading. “Please. You need to leave.”
He stared at me. And after a moment, he nodded once. Without another word, he turned and walked out of the apartment.
I shut the door behind him, leaning against it, pressing a trembling hand to my chest. But my heart wouldn’t slow down.
Fuck.
What did I almost do?