When Her Death Couldn't Break Him (Cecilia and Nathaniel) novel Chapter 2169

At the Smith residence, the house buzzed with childish laughter; bright-eyed youngsters darted between marble columns while Charlotte happily played with them.

Cecilia, ever watchful, murmured for her to slow down and watch her step.

Charlotte was, after all, pregnant, and a single fall or hit could spell trouble for both mother and child.

Fortunately, the children milling around the house were well-mannered. They shared their toys, their laughter, even their secret forts, and not once did a shove or scream pierce the summer air.

Alas, the fragile peace shattered in the space of a heartbeat.

Trailing a pack of late-arriving kids, Felix strolled through the iron-framed doors, flashing a grin so wide it almost looked harmless. "Hi, everyone!" he greeted, the notes landing hard as coins on stone.

Dante's jaw tightened, all warmth draining from his face. "Why did Eli and Jon invite him over?" the boy complained, every syllable laced with old grievances.

Beside him, Sophie shook her head. "No idea," she whispered, fingers knotting around her skirt, though her eyes never left the newcomer.

Felix caught the exchange, smirked, and sauntered toward them as though a red carpet stretched beneath his sneakers.

"Hey, Dante! Fancy seeing you here." He let the words drip with mock surprise before turning those razor-dark eyes on the girl.

"You're Sophie Peach, right?"

Sophie managed the tiniest nod, shrinking behind Dante's shoulder.

Dante stepped sideways, shielding her. "What do you want, Felix?"

"Relax. I'm just here to have fun," Felix said, flashing teeth. Yet the glint behind his gaze was anything but playful.

Instead, his young eyes burned something far too vicious for his age.

Sophie tugged at Dante's sleeve. “Let's go play somewhere else, Dante," she suggested, eyes pleading.

Dante nearly agreed, then straightened, resolve hardening. He shook his head.

"No. We stay. This is Eli's house. It isn't Felix's territory. We don't have to bow down to him."

Felix's smile flattened into a thin, dangerous line. "Well, well—look at you growing a backbone, Dante. Impressive." His voice was soft, but the threat inside it thrummed like a plucked wire.

Dante's knuckles whitened as he curled his fists, muscles in his young arms trembling with a fury too large for his small frame.

"Felix Rainsworth, you'd better watch yourself!" he snapped, every syllable crackling like dry wood in a fire.

Felix knew he was no match for Dante. He shot the other boy a final, venomous stare, then pivoted on his heel and stormed out of the courtyard.

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