I survived my family's cruelty. I escaped a locked room half-starved and bleeding to warn the man who threw me away. Not because I expected him to take me back. I'm not that naive anymore. I did it because it was the right thing to do.
Alessandro may have given me shelter for now, but I can't mistake it for love. I can't build another fantasy of happily-ever-after with a man who won’t ever trust me.
Alessandro's jaw tightens, and again, I feel like I see emotions in his eyes. But I won’t fool myself again. I did what I came to do. Now I need to make plans for me and the baby.
I’m exhausted, but I find the courage to tell him what I need.
"I understand why you struggle to trust me. I'm a Vitale. The enemy." I shift against the pillows, wincing as pain shoots through my bruised body.
“Don’t talk now, Isabella. You need your rest.”
I shake my head. “I need to say this. Like I said, I know why you can’t ever trust me. As much I’d hoped for more in our marriage, I see now that it’s impossible, and I don’t blame you. But please, Alessandro, you have to believe me about this. They are planning an attack on your home.”
“They won’t succeed. No one takes what’s mine.”
I study his face, wondering if he includes me and the baby, before I remember I’m not going to wish for a fairy tale anymore.
I nod, not sure who will win in the war but knowing I’ve done my part. “When this is over… when you’ve won, will you let me go?" I’ll have to come up with another plan if he loses, but for now, he’s my only hope of surviving. "I could disappear. Start over somewhere far away. Raise our child in peace, away from all the violence.”
Alessandro's eyes widen, surprise flickering across his features. He draws back slightly, studying me, and in his hesitation, my dream of freedom and safety falls away.
"Is that what you really want?" he asks, his voice hoarse. "To disappear with our child? To never see me again?"
"Yes," I say without hesitation even as the answer is no. What I really want is for him to love me and our baby. But I can’t change the blood that flows through me. It will flow through our baby too, along with Dante blood.
Sadness, or maybe regret, flashes in his eyes, but I force myself not to read into it. I've been wrong about Alessandro too many times, seeing what I wanted to see rather than what was actually there. I won't make that mistake again.
He leans forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. In this position, he looks less like the fearsome Don and more like a man weighted down by life.
"I will give you what you want," he says slowly. "Once the threat from the Vitales is eliminated and I know you'll be safe, I'll provide whatever you need to build a new life."
My breath catches. I hadn't actually expected him to agree. "You mean that?”
He nods, his dark eyes holding mine. "I've failed you in every way that matters, Isabella. I should have trusted you. I should have protected you." His voice grows rough with emotion. "Instead, I let my suspicions poison everything between us."
He surprises me by taking my hand. "I realize there were other opportunities to take the key, especially since I’ve been vulnerable in other areas. I should have considered that possibility before condemning you."
I say nothing as I ponder whether I’m actually dreaming. Maybe I’m in a coma or passing to heaven.
"You deserve better than what your family gave you," he continues. "And you deserve better than what I've given you as well. Had I done better by you, maybe things could have been different between us."
The sincerity in his voice makes my chest ache. This is the Alessandro I’d always wanted.
"Different how?" I ask, even as I know I can’t allow myself to hope.
He looks down at our joined hands. "Maybe we could have built something real. But I've given you no reason to stay and every reason to leave."
This is what I asked for. Freedom for my child and myself. So why does it feel like I'm losing something precious instead of gaining it?
I search Alessandro's face, trying to understand if there's more to his resignation than mere regret. "What do you want?"
He meets my gaze, and I see the war between the man he's been trained to be and the man he might become.
"What I want is irrelevant. I've spent my life doing what needs to be done, not what I want." He starts to pull his hand away.
"That's not an answer." I reach for his hand again, refusing to let him retreat. "Tell me the truth. Do you want me to go?"
"No. I don't want you to go."
