Page 220 of My Ruthless Husband

Matt speaks again, “I was found hours later. I don’t remember much. I was too numb, too scared to move, too terrified to even think. I thought, maybe… maybe the cops would come. I thought they’d ask me what I saw, but no one did. I was just waiting, but nothing happened. No questions. No one ever came.” Matt’s voice cracks, his hands clenched into fists. “Instead, my mom—she shipped me off to London. Just like that. I was sent to boarding school. Like it was some kind of punishment. I was never given a chance to process it, to speak about what I saw. They never asked me if I was okay. My mom was terrified I’d talk, so she silenced me. She didn’t even take me to therapy. Instead, she put the fear in me—if I talked, I’d be next. Said I was only alive because they thought I passed out and didn’t see anything. My mother knew, though. She knew what had happened, and it changed everything for me. I never forgave her for siding with the criminals.”

I remember how Damian mentioned my father relocated all the employees working on that floor overnight.

His eyes cloud over with a haunted look again. “But it changed me, River. I couldn’t escape it. I buried it deep, I tried to forget. But you can’t forget something like that. So I started working on it, in my own way. I volunteered. I worked with NGOs. It was my way of helping him—the man they murdered.”

“That man… the one who was… killed,” I choke out, the words scraping against my throat. “His name was Anthony Sabatino.”

Matt freezes. His eyes widen. He’s silent for a moment before his voice drops to a harsh whisper, disbelief in every syllable. “How… how do you know his name?”

The truth burns in my chest like acid. “He was Damian’s father.”

A flash of horror crosses Matt’s face. His mouth opens, but no sound comes out at first. It’s like the ground beneath him has cracked wide open, swallowing everything he thought he understood. He stares at me in disbelief. “Damian’s father…”

Matt doesn’t blink. He doesn’t even breathe for a moment. Then, his voice drops, harsh and low. “Did he know your father was the one who killed his?”

My throat tightens as I nod.

“Before or after he married you?” he presses, his eyes now searching mine like he’s looking for any shred of hope that maybe it wasn’t as bad as it seemed.

“Before,” I say hoarsely.

Matt’s hands curl into fists. “That bastard,” he growls. “He married you for revenge, didn’t he? That explains everything. No wonder you were miserable, but you didn’t even know why. All of this—the misery, the distance, the cruelty—that’s what it was about. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t even about you. It was about getting back at your father. It’s the only thing matters to him.”

“No,” I whisper, shaking my head desperately. “That’s not true.”

“He didn’t love you, River. He didn’t want you—he wanted to destroy your life.”

“No! You don’t understand—”

Matt glares at me, as if trying to make me see what’s obvious. “River, I get it. What happened to him was brutal. I truly do feel for him. But pulling you into his mess? Into all of this? That’s unforgivable. You were innocent. You didn’t deserve any of this.”

I bite my lip. “I know you’re angry. I know it’s hard to understand. But we talked last night. Damian told me everything. He… he told me why he did it, why he married me. He…” My voice shakes. “He loves me. Even after everything, even after what my father did to him. He still loves me.”

There’s a long silence after that.

“I can’t believe he’s capable of that,” Matt finally murmurs, resigned. “Just promise me one thing…”

“What?”

“Promise me you won’t lose yourself in his world,” Matt says quietly. “Don’t let him pull you under. You deserve more than this—more than revenge, more than hatred. I want you to be happy, River. Don’t forget that.”

“I love him, Matt.”

He gives me a sad smile, his eyes filled with something unreadable. “You deserve the world, River. I just hope he gives you everything you’ve always wanted.”

After a beat, he says, “I’ll talk to Damian about that day. I think I can finally do what I’ve been wanting to for so long… help that man—Anthony get justice.”

I nod solemnly.

“So I guess I should leave now.” He pushes to his feet.

“Are you okay now?” I ask, rising.

“Yes.” He pauses, then, “I think I’ll never truly get over what I saw. Who could? But now, knowing I have a chance to help put those responsible behind bars… maybe I can start to make peace with all of it.”

I place my hand on his forearm, offering support. “Guess I’ll see you in L.A. in a couple of weeks then? We’re still on for volunteering, right?”

His smile is bittersweet. “I might not be there.”

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