Chapter 70 After the Storm
Isabella — POV
By the time we returned to Alexander’s house, it was well past midnight.
Everything felt unreal.
The drive. The silence. The simple fact that I was still breathing.
My body was exhausted, but my mind refused to slow down. It kept replaying everything in fragments—the warehouse, the bomb vest, Moretti’s voice, Alexander’s face when he thought I was going to lose him forever.
I had changed into one of Alexander’s shirts and a pair of soft sleep shorts. My wrists had been cleaned and bandaged where the ropes had rubbed my skin raw. Even without the vest, my chest still felt strange—heavy—like my body hadn’t quite realized the weight was finally gone.
I sat curled into the corner of Alexander’s bed, my knees pulled to my chest, staring at nothing.
Alexander had stepped across the room for all of thirty seconds before he came right back to me.
He had changed too, but his hair was still messy, his shirt half-buttoned, his face pale and drawn. He looked like a man who had been dragged through hell and left there just a little too long.
He crossed the room and crouched in front of me.
“You okay?”
The question was so soft it almost broke me.
I looked at him.
Really looked at him.
He was trying so hard to stay calm for me, but I could still see what was underneath it, fear, guilt, exhaustion, and that awful look like he still wasn’t fully convinced I was alive.
I nodded, though I wasn’t entirely sure it was true.
“I’m here,” he said quietly.
His hand came up slowly, like he was giving me time to stop him, and brushed a strand of hair away from my face.
“I’m not leaving.”
My throat tightened.
“I know.”
He stayed there for a moment, still crouched in front of me, his hand resting lightly on my knee like he needed to keep touching me just to reassure himself.
There was a knock on the bedroom door.
Alexander’s jaw tightened immediately.
“I told them—”
“It’s okay,” I said softly.
He looked at me like he wanted to argue.
Then the door opened a crack, and Sarah peeked her head in first.
“Oh thank God,” she breathed when she saw me sitting up.
A second later she crossed the room and wrapped her arms around me so carefully it almost made me cry again.
“Don’t ever do that to me again.”
“I didn’t exactly schedule it,” I said weakly. “Sorry.”
She pulled back just enough to glare at me.
“Don’t apologize for being kidnapped by psychopaths.”
A tiny laugh slipped out before I could stop it.
That seemed to relax everyone else, because the rest of them came in right after that.
Alexander’s mother first.
Then Ava.
Then James.
All of them looked tired. All of them looked shaken.
His mother rushed to me next and hugged me so tightly I let out a small sound.
“Oh sweetheart, I am so glad you’re safe and home. I am so sorry.”
She pulled back with tears in her eyes.
“It’s okay,” I said quickly, because she looked like she was about to completely fall apart. “I’m okay. See? Everyone is okay.”
Her voice broke anyway, and she hugged me again.
James stayed near the door for a moment, watching the room in that quiet, sharp way he had when he was more upset than he wanted anyone to know.
Then he looked at me, looked at Alexander, and said flatly,
“Next time you plan to die in a warehouse, maybe send a group text first.”
Alexander grabbed the nearest pillow and launched it at his head without even looking.
James caught it.
“See?” he said to me. “That right there. That’s how I know he’s emotionally recovering.”
Ava snorted.
“Does this guy even know how to be serious?”
Then she glanced at Sarah.
“Sarah, you better tell your boyfriend to stop joking.”
Sarah blinked.
“He is not my boyfriend. Who said he is?”
Ava pointed at James.
“He told me you two are a thing now.”
Sarah turned slowly toward James, who was standing there smirking like this entire conversation amused him.
“We are not a thing.”
James shrugged.
“We’ll see about that.”
Alexander’s mother sighed and moved toward me, gently taking my face in her hands.
“You poor thing. Look at all these crazy people talking nonsense.”
Her voice softened.
“You’re safe now, sweetheart.”
I nodded quickly, though I had to bite back another laugh at the way Sarah was glaring at James.
Alexander stayed close enough that his leg brushed the side of the bed. He still hadn’t fully sat down yet. Hadn’t relaxed at all.
He was wound so tightly it looked painful.
James noticed too.
“Alex.”
Alexander didn’t look at him.
“What.”
“You look like you’re about to kill someone.”
“That’s because I still want to.”
James exhaled slowly.
“Moretti’s in custody.”
“I know.”
“His men too.”
“I know.”
“Then maybe unclench your jaw before your teeth crack.”
That got another weak laugh out of me.
Alexander finally looked at James.
Then at me.
Then, slowly—like he was forcing his body to remember how—he sat down on the edge of the bed beside me.
Immediately his hand found mine.
Sarah noticed and glanced away with a small knowing smile.
Ava sat in the chair by the window. James leaned against the wall. Alexander’s mother perched on the bench at the foot of the bed.
For a moment, no one said anything.
The room was quiet.
Not uncomfortable.
Just heavy.
Like we all knew the worst part was over, but none of us quite knew how to step back into normal life yet.
It was Alexander’s mother who finally broke the silence.
“Would anyone like tea?” she asked.
James looked at her.
“At one in the morning?”
She gave him a look.
“Yes, James. Traumatic experiences do not cancel out proper hospitality.”
He raised both hands.
“I stand corrected.”
Ava smiled faintly.
“I’ll help.”
They left the room together, Sarah trailing after them after squeezing my shoulder gently.
That left just me, Alexander, and James.
The silence shifted.
James straightened slightly.
Then he looked at me, not joking now.
“How are you really?”
I thought about lying.
“Tired.”
“That makes sense.”
Alexander’s grip on my hand tightened slightly.
I looked down at our fingers.
Then back at James.
“You saved my life.”
His expression shifted instantly, becoming almost embarrassed.
“Well.”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“My ego would love for you to say that again in front of more people.”
I smiled a little.
“Thank you.”
This time he didn’t joke.
He simply nodded.
“You’re welcome.”
Then he glanced at Alexander.
“And you’re lucky I’m this loyal, because if you ever pull something that stupid again, I might actually let you blow up out of principle.”
Alexander looked at him.
“Thank you.”
Something unspoken passed between them then.
Years of friendship. Loyalty. Fear. Relief.
James looked away first.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “Well. Don’t get weird about it.”
Alexander gave the faintest ghost of a smile.
Too small for anyone but me to notice.
When the others came back with tea, the mood softened a little. Not much—but enough.
Sarah sat cross-legged on the rug near the bed and started telling me in dramatic detail how she almost hit one of Moretti’s men in the face with a lamp when they came to her apartment.
Ava chimed in halfway through the story.
Alexander’s mother kept fussing over blankets and asking if I needed food, water, another pillow, thicker socks, a doctor… or possibly a priest.
At some point, against all odds—
I laughed.
A real laugh.
The entire room seemed to freeze for a second when I did.
Like everyone had been waiting for that sound.
Alexander turned toward me so quickly it made my chest ache.
His eyes softened instantly.
And something about the relief on his face—so deep it was almost painful—made me realize just how close tonight had come to ending very differently.
Too differently.
One by one, they all started leaving.
Ava kissed my cheek and told me if I ever needed anything—even if it was just someone to sit in silence with—I could call her anytime.
Sarah hugged me three times before leaving and threatened Alexander with bodily harm if he so much as breathed wrong near me.
Alexander’s mother pressed a kiss to my forehead.
“We are very lucky to have you in our lives.”
Then she turned toward Alexander and pointed a finger at him.
“And you better not let anything like that happen to her ever again.”
Alexander didn’t hesitate.
“Never,” he said quietly. “Not even close.”
James lingered last.
He looked at me.
Then at Alexander.
Then back at me.
“You sure you’re okay with him staying?”
I almost laughed.
Alexander looked offended.
“I live here.”
James shrugged.
“Just checking.”
I squeezed Alexander’s hand.
James nodded once.
Then he looked at his best friend and said, quieter than before, “You almost lost your mind tonight.”
Alexander didn’t answer.
Because he didn’t need to.
James’s eyes flicked toward me, then back to him.
“Get some sleep.”
He started toward the door, then paused and looked over his shoulder.
“And Alex?”
Alexander looked up.
James smirked.
“Get started on making that baby. I want that kid named after me as soon as possible.”
Alexander’s mouth twitched.
“Out.”
James laughed under his breath and slipped out, closing the door softly behind him.
The silence that followed felt different now.
Private.
Tender.
The room somehow felt bigger once everyone was gone.
Alexander still hadn’t let go of my hand.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Then he said quietly, “You should try to sleep.”
I looked at him.
“You first.”
“I’m not tired.”
“You look dead.”
That actually pulled a soft breath of laughter out of him.
“I feel worse.”
Something in my chest pulled tight.
I shifted closer to him.
“Come here.”
He hesitated for half a second.
Then he stretched out beside me on top of the blankets, like he still wasn’t sure he was allowed to relax, like getting too comfortable might tempt fate into taking me away again.
I rolled onto my side and rested my head against his chest.
His arm came around me instantly.
Of course it did.
His heartbeat was still too fast.
I listened to it for a second.
Then I said quietly, “I understand.”
He went still.
I felt it immediately.
His chest stopped rising for a beat before he finally exhaled again.
“Isabella…”
“No,” I said softly. “Listen.”
He stayed silent.
I lifted my head just enough to look at him.
“I understand why you killed your father.”
Pain flickered across his face.
“I’m not saying it was right,” I said quietly. “But I understand.”
My voice shook a little.
His jaw tightened.
I swallowed hard.
“And I understand why you killed Moretti’s father too.”
Alexander looked at me like he didn’t know what to do with that.
“I’m not saying I’m magically okay with all the killing,” I continued. “Because I’m not.”
His eyes stayed on mine.
“But you have to promise me something.”
“What?”
“You can’t keep killing your way out of everything.”
My voice softened.
“Sometimes you have to let the police handle things.”
He closed his eyes briefly.
“I know.”
“But…”
I took a shaky breath.
“I still chose you tonight. Knowing the truth.”
When his eyes opened again, there was something almost fragile in them.
“Are you sure?”
The question broke my heart a little.
Not because of what he asked.
Because of how he asked it.
Like he truly believed I might still disappear.
“I’m here,” I whispered.
His hand came up and cupped my cheek.
“You should hate me.”
I almost smiled.
“Sometimes,” I said playfully.
That made him almost smile too.
“But I love you more.”
His eyes filled with tears again.
“I don’t deserve that.”
“Maybe not,” I murmured, lifting his hand and pressing a kiss to his knuckles.
“Good thing I’m stubborn.”
That did make him smile then.
Small.
Tired.
Wrecked.
But real.
I touched his face gently.
He looked back at me.
And in that moment, all the anger and fear and ache between us shifted into something quieter.
Not gone.
But softer.
He leaned down and kissed my forehead.
“I almost lost you.”
His voice was so low I almost didn’t hear it.
“But you didn’t.”
He shut his eyes.
“I thought…”
He stopped.
Tried again.
“When that timer kept dropping…”
His voice broke.
I pressed closer to him.
“I know.”
Whatever he had felt in those final minutes had carved something permanent into him.
Into both of us.
He held me tighter.
Too tight for sleep.
Too tight for comfort.
More like he was still afraid that if he let go, I would vanish.
I didn’t complain.
I just wrapped my arm around him and stayed there.
And sometime later, long after the house had gone quiet and the city outside had fallen asleep, I realized something as I listened to his heartbeat beneath my ear:
Tonight hadn’t just shown me how much Alexander loved me.
It had shown him too.
And I don’t think he fully understood—until he thought I was about to die—just how impossible his life would be without me in it.
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