Page 26 of Crimson Fate

“Even if it means your misery?” Her words are a plea, her hand reaching out as if she could physically pull me back from the edge I’m teetering on.

“Why do you assume I’ll be miserable?”

“Because you don’t love her!” she exclaims.

“Love is a vulnerability I can’t afford,” I say, releasing her wrist. “Besides, I think there’s a chance one day I could.”

“Then wait,” she pleads. “Wait for the day you can honestly tell me you love Gia, and then you will have my full support to marry her.”

“Enough, Eva.” My tone is final, my resolve hardening like the concrete walls that fortify my home—and my heart. “This discussion is over.”

She nods, but a million unspoken words fill her silence. As she turns to leave, I call after her, “Wait, where are you going?”

“You said it yourself. We have nothing left to discuss,” Eva concedes.

“Please don’t be like this,” I say, staring into her eyes.

“When do you draw the line? When does sacrifice become self-betrayal?” she asks, looking back at me.

I clench my jaw, feeling the weight of her challenge to my loyalties, to the life I’ve chosen—or perhaps that has chosen me. It’s a duel of wills, and I’m not about to lay down my sword.

“Self-betrayal?” My laugh is short and devoid of humor. “Not everything is about what people want. Besides, maybe what I want is to protect what my father created for his children. This incessant need to chase one’s own happiness is just a weakness.”

“Is that how you see me? As weak?” Her voice is a whisper, yet it hammers against my resolve.

“Of course not,” I snap, the accusation striking a nerve. “But you’re being naïve. Hypocritical, even.”

“Me? Hypocritical?” Incredulity is etched into her features as she repeats my words.

“Your family,” I start, my tone cold as steel, “has benefited from our alliance for years. Your father’s business thrived because of our contracts, and why do you think he got those? I’ll tell you why. It’s because of his friendship with my father since they were boys.”

“Your father got a piece of every contract he ever brought my dad, so let’s not pretend that wasn’t a mutually beneficial relationship,” she snaps back at me, her defenses rising. “And besides, that was between him and your family. I had nothing to do with it!”

“Didn’t you?” I scoff, unable to mask the bitterness lacing my words. “You enjoyed the perks well enough—the trips to Spain, visiting your grandmother, the nice apartment you grew up in just around the corner from here.”

“Those were visits to family, Vincent! Not some luxury I indulged in!” Her hands ball into fists at her sides, and I can see the effort it takes her to control the tremble in her voice.

“Convenient,” I say, my voice dripping with cynicism. “Yet here you are, questioning my decisions when yours are not so different.”

“You don’t even make sense. How does my visiting my grandmother have anything to do with you marrying someone you don’t love?” Eva demands, her voice rising with every word.

I stare at her, my frustration boiling over. “This alliance with Gia is about more than just her and me. It’s about the future of our families and those who rely on us. People like your dad rely on me to continue providing opportunities for them. How can I do that unless I have the same loyalty my father had? This marriage will provide me with that.”

“Do you hear your self-importance?” she yells.

“Enough!” I thunder the word echoing off the walls. “This is not a debate. It’s my life, my decision.”

“Well, it’s a mistake,” she adds. The intensity behind her words could shatter glass.

Her eyes, usually so full of warmth, now shoot daggers of ice, each one slicing through my defenses. I feel a pang in my chest, an unfamiliar ache that has no place in the heart of a man like me.

“It’s my mistake to make.” My voice comes out more strangled than I intend, betraying the turmoil beneath my calm exterior.

With those final words, she turns away, leaving me standing amid the ruins of our conversation. The elevator opens in the foyer, and I have the urge to chase her, but I don’t. I remain motionless as the swoosh of the doors opening and closing is the last thing I hear before I’m entirely alone.

Chapter Ten

The scent of salt and rust hangs thick in the air as I unlock the heavy metal door to the private warehouse. It’s a tomb of shadows, hulking crates stacked like silent sentinels in the dim light that filters through the grime-smeared skylights. This place is mine—one of many nodes in a web of exportation businesses that cloak more than just legitimate trade.

---