“I was wrong, Isabella,” he said, voice hoarse. “I chose the wrong side. I let you go when I should’ve fought for you.”
I crossed my arms. “And now you think you can just take me back?”
His jaw tightened, but he took a step closer. “No. I know I can’t take you back.” He exhaled sharply, his hands trembling slightly. “But I came to fix what I broke. Whatever it takes.”
I watched him, my heart cold but conflicted. Vincent Falcone had finally realized what he lost.
But the question was—was it too late?
I took a slow, steady breath. Vincent stood before me, soaked from the rain, looking more vulnerable than I had ever seen him.
“Fix what you broke?” I repeated, shaking my head. “You think words can undo what’s been done?”
Vincent’s gaze darkened. “I know words aren’t enough. But actions might be.”
I studied him carefully.
Then I spoke the words that sealed both our fates. “If you want redemption, Vincent, then you’ll prove it—not to me, but to our child.”
His breath caught, but he nodded. “I will.”
I turned away, walking back into the warmth of the Rossi estate.
If Vincent wanted to be part of our lives, he would have to fight for it.
And for the first time, I knew I held all the power.
The game had changed.
And this time—I was the one in control.
