Chapter 95.
Isabella’s eyes fluttered open, the weight of exhaustion still pressing on her body. Her vision blurred for a moment before settling on the figure before her. Ignazio.
He was sitting beside her, his fingers curled tightly around her hand, as if he feared letting go would mean losing her forever. His usually composed face was a wreck of emotions—fear, regret, desperation—all bleeding through his dark, tormented eyes.
At the sight of her waking up, he inhaled sharply, his entire body tensing.
“Princesss.”he rasped, his voice raw, trembling with relief and something far deeper—something dangerously close to breaking.
His hand shot up to her cheek, his touch hesitant at first, as if he feared she might disappear like a cruel illusion. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, though even he
