Page 88 of Marriage of Revenge

"Anyhow. I... I asked him because your mom and I had been spending time together in the mornings. She'd whisper to me once that she was worried about you and... and... I remember telling my father he needed to fix that."

She blinks rapidly but one tear escapes, marking a path down her cheek I want to trace with my tongue. With my fist. With fire. "I told my father that I thought your mother was going to leave if he didn't do something. That you both were going to go. I said..." Her voice catches. "I said my mother would still be there if he had made sure she was safer."

The tears flow freely now, her voice fading to barely a whisper. "I was angry. I was mad. I didn't think. I said he's being humiliated and... I didn't know... I didn't know that he was going to read that letter. I didn't know what I said was going to change everything."

"You betrayed her." My voice cuts like the blade I should be using instead of listening to her pretty lies.

"I didn't know." She glances away, like she's drowning in her own tsunami of regret. "An hour later, I saw your mother following one of his men."

"She didn't follow one of his men."

"She did. And I guess my father didn't want me to know what was happening because he told his man to let her talk to me. A few words. With a smile. Like she didn't want to worry me either. And she said..." Another hard swallow that makes the void in my chest expand like a black hole. "Tonio is more himself with you than with anyone. She touched my hair." The pause carriesweight before she forces out: "I know you're going to keep him safe. Always."

My mother trusted her. Wanted to save both of us while I was too busy proving blood didn't matter. But it did. It fucking did.

"Keeping me safe?" My laugh comes out like broken glass. "You didn't." She flinches like I've struck her.

"I know." Anguish bleeds through her voice, mixing with something that sounds like surrender. When her eyes find mine again, a visible shiver runs through her. "I saw the letter on my bed afterwards and I thought... I thought this meant my father didn't convince her. When I got to the meeting point, she wasn't there."

"Because you were daddy's perfect princess and sold her out." My jaw clenches so hard it hurts. "And you forgot one part, didn't you?"

"What do you mean?" The confusion in her voice almost sounds real. Almost makes me believe the performance. The ballerina in her still knows how to sell a story.

But I'm not some faceless audience member watching from the dark.

I know better.

I lean in until I'm breathing her air, close enough to taste the lies on her tongue. Ready to destroy her last defense.

"She was going to take you with us – that was the meeting point."

CHAPTER 46—ISABELLA

Can a heart bruise?Because mine feels black and blue, each beat a fresh ache. I was ready for his rage, his fury - braced myself for him to declare last night's tenderness another weapon in his arsenal. Prepared to hear how thoroughly he played me.

I should congratulate him, really. He hasn't just succeeded in breaking me - he's elevated it to an art form. His words reach straight through my ribs, squeezing my heart just shy of shattering. Keeping me alive enough to feel every excruciating second of this execution.

The pain that burns hotter than chemo.

The regrets that cut deeper than any scalpel.

The remorse that weighs heavier than all my hospital stays combined.

"Still playing innocent." His voice scrapes out like gravel, dripping with scorn and disbelief. My mouth falls open, but mybody already knows what's coming - tensing like it used to before bad test results. Before another battle I'm not sure I can survive.

His scent overwhelms me - expensive cologne and something purely him that makes my throat close up like before panic attacks. His face hovers inches from mine, a masterpiece of grief and rage painted in harsh lines. Grief for everything he lost because of me, everything he could have been if I hadn't helped destroy his world. No matter how much I ache to, I can't turn back time.

I can't save him.

I can't even save myself.

I can't soothe this pain, even though every cell in my body screams to wrap my arms around him. To hold him while I whisper endless apologies, tell him I'm here, tell him I understand the guilt eating him alive. Because he doesn't have to say it - it burns in those thunderous eyes, that same self-loathing that's been my constant companion since his mother disappeared.

"What do you mean?" My voice comes out weak as hospital air, betraying more than it should. His head shake carries disbelief, and that chuckle? It's more dangerous than any diagnosis - dry as desert bones and dripping contempt. It tells me more than any symphony ever could.

He's not done making me bleed.

"You ran to your father and ran your mouth. Maybe you hadn't seen the letter yet. Maybe you had... but my mother told you. She told you she wanted you to come with me and that enraged your father."

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