The words came out broken.
Desperate.
Vincenzo stiffened slightly at that.
His hand tightened just a fraction around hers.
“You promised me,” Violet continued, her voice weakening but still pressing forward, refusing to let the moment slip away.
“You promised... you’d do anything... anything to make me happy... to keep me alive.”
A pause.
Her gaze sharpened just slightly, tears gathering in her eyes.
“Yes... you actually took her to the lab to have her heart removed for me... but at the last minute, you changed your mind... just as the doctor was about to do it.”
The accusation was soft.
But it landed.
“Do you...” Her voice shook, cracking at the edges. “Do you hate me now, Vin? Do you love her instead?”
For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath.
Vincenzo swallowed hard.
I saw it.
That small movement in his throat. The tightening in his jaw.
The conflict.
But only for a moment.
Then—
“Elena is my wife,” he said softly, voice steady, eyes distant.
“She’s the kind of woman who makes you believe in goodness again... patient, gentle, endlessly kind. When she smiles, it feels like the world is lighter.”
My breath caught slightly.
“I hated her at first—because of what her father did to me.”
“But I don’t hate her anymore.”
A beat.
“I’ve watched her. Studied her when she thought no one was looking.”
My stomach tightened.
“She has a beautiful heart.”
The words were calm.
Certain.
