Chapter 24 The Funeral

• (Isabella POV)
• The black dress Elena had laid out felt like borrowed skin. Too formal, too final. Isabella stood in front of the mirror, barely recognizing the hollow-eyed woman staring back. Three days since her mother's death, and grief had carved her into someone sharper, more brittle.
• A knock at the door. Leonardo entered without waiting for permission, a habit she'd stopped fighting. He wore a dark suit that made him look like what he was: dangerous, untouchable. But his eyes held something softer when they landed on her.