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But I couldn’t.

Because Sinclair was right. She deserved to know.

Even if it destroyed us.

I opened the door and stepped inside. Madigan looked up, smiling, but the smile faded when she saw my face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked immediately, shifting Henry to her other hip.

“Sinclair called.” My voice sounded hollow and distant. “There’s been an accident.”

The color drained from her face. “Who?”

“Your uncle. Cian. He was in a car accident. He’s in critical condition.”

For a moment, she just stared at me, her eyes wide and disbelieving. Then she made a sound—a small, broken thing that tore through me like a knife. “No,” she whispered. “No, no, no.”

She swayed, and I crossed to her quickly, taking Henry from her arms before she dropped him. She pressed her hands to her mouth, tears already streaming down her face. “How bad?” she asked, her voice muffled.

“Bad. He’s in surgery.”

“I have to go.” She was already moving, heading toward our bedroom. “I have to go to him. I have to⁠—”

“Madigan, wait.”

“I can’t wait!” She spun to face me, her eyes wild with grief and panic. “It’s Cian, Salvatore. I have to see him. I have to tell him—” Her voice broke. “I have to tell him I love him.”

I stood there holding our son, watching her unravel, and felt something crack open in my chest.

“Please,” I said quietly. “Please don’t go.”

She stared at me like I’d slapped her. “What?”

“Don’t go back there. Don’t go back to Boston. To your father. To that life.” I could hear the desperation in my voice, could feel myself unraveling. “Please, Madigan. Please.”

“He’s family. I have to.”

“And what about us?” I gestured between us, at Henry sleeping in my arms. “What about our family? The life we’ve built here?”

“I’ll come back.” She was crying now, tears streaming down her face. “I’ll only be gone a few days. Just long enough to see him, to say goodbye if—” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

“You won’t come back.”

My words hung in the air between us, heavy and terrible.

“What?” she whispered.

“You won’t come back,” I repeated, my voice rough. “The moment you set foot in that hospital, your father will find a way to get you back to New York City. He’ll use your guilt, your sense of obligation, your love for your family. He’ll manipulate you into staying, and you’ll let him because that’s what you do. You put everyone else first. You sacrifice yourself for the people you love.”

“That’s not fair.”

“It’s the truth.” I could feel myself losing control, could feel the careful composure I’d built my life on crumbling. “You know it’s the truth. You know what he’ll do. What he’s capable of.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“Careful doesn’t matter!” My voice rose as Henry stirred in my arms, making a small sound of protest. I forced myself to lower my voice, but I couldn’t stop the words from pouring out. “Your father is a master manipulator. He’s had years to perfect his control over you. And now you’re going to walk right back into his trap, and I’m supposed to just let you go?”

“He’s my uncle, Salvatore.” Her voice broke on his name. “The only person in that family who ever showed me kindness. Who always made me feel like I mattered. I can’t just abandon him when he’s hurt.”