His Merciless Redemption novel Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Isabella’s POV

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49

I had just finished settling Mateo at his drawing table when the intercom buzzed. I froze, half expecting it to be Luca with the security update we had discussed. But I knew he would simply come up because his name was there on the visitor’s list and he knew the code to my apartment instead of having the concierge buzz him up.

“Yes?” I asked, pressing the button.

“Signora Bianchi, there’s a guest here for you,” the concierge’s voice crackled. “He insists it’s urgent.”

“Name?”

There was a pause, almost apologetic.

“Signor Russo.”

Every drop of warmth drained from my body.

He found me.

“Tell him I’m not available,” I said, forcing my tone to be clipped, professional.

“He said you’d say that,” came the careful reply. “He also said you can either let him in, or he will wait outside the building. For hours. Though, I can send him away if you want me to.”

I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly through my nose. Mateo’s humming drifted from the living room, soft and oblivious.

“It’s okay,” I said. “Send him up. But don’t let anyone else in.”

The knock came three minutes later, calm, deliberate, as if he already owned the space behind the door.

My hand tightened on the knob, my knuckles white. I opened it halfway, my body blocking the gap.

Dominic stood there, immaculately dressed in a dark charcoal suit, the city light catching on the sharp lines of his jaw. He looked older, more powerful, somehow, but his presence hadn’t diminished an ounce.

“You didn’t answer my email,” he said smoothly.

“I had nothing to say.”

“That’s a first.”

His eyes

flicked

past my shoulder, scanning the interior before I shifted to block his view entirely.

“Why are you here, Dominic?” I demanded.

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Chapter 11

…

“I want to talk,” he said simply. “Face to face, without a boardroom or witnesses.”

“You don’t get to want anything from me.”

He arched a brow, as if amused.

“Is that so?”

I didn’t dignify it with an answer, gripping the edge of the door until it dug into my palm.

“You’ve made a nice life here,” Dominic said, voice deceptively calm. “Different name, good career, a place where no one knows who you are, or what you left behind.”

“Get out,” I snapped suddenly, not wanting to hear another word from him, not wanting him to taint my world with his presence.

“No.”

The quiet finality of the word slammed into me like a physical force. For a moment, neither moved. Then, Mateo’s laughter rang out from inside.

Dominic’s gaze sharpened instantly, flicking to the sound before returning to my face.

“Who’s here with you?”

My pulse pounded so hard I could barely hear my own voice.

“None of your business.”

49

Something unreadable passed across his face, but before he could speak, I slammed the door shut. My chest heaved as I slid the lock in place, fingers trembling.

From the other side came Dominic’s voice, low and controlled, “You can keep running, Isabella. But we both know this conversation isn’t over.”

His footsteps receded, each one measured, leaving behind a silence that felt like a loaded gun.

I leaned back against the door, pressing my palms against it to keep myself steady.

He knows. Even if he doesn’t yet, he will.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself upright. There was no time to panic. I had Mateo to protect.

***

Dominic’s POV

The door slammed with the finality of a verdict.

I stood motionless in the quiet hallway of Isabella’s building, staring at the wood as if I could see through it. My jaw ticked once, twice before I slowly turned away.

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Chapter 11

I walked to the elevator, refusing to let my anger show. But inside, it coiled like a live wire, sparking with every echo of the child’s laughter I’d heard inside her apartment.

A boy.

A laugh too small. Too young.

And so damn familiar.

The elevator doors closed, and I leaned back against the wall, fists clenched at my sides.

She had a child, and she clearly didn’t want me to find out about him.

49

I could still hear that boy’s voice like it was imprinted on my brain. Something primal had shifted in me the moment I had heard it, an instinct sharper than logic. A tug somewhere beneath my ribs, in a part of me that I thought had long gone cold.

I didn’t know for certain. But I felt it.

Mine.

The elevator dinged.

By the time I stepped out onto the quiet street, my composure had returned, at least on the surface.

My driver was waiting by the curb, but I waved him off and walked. I needed air. I needed time.

But most of all, I needed answers.

As I crossed the narrow Florentine streets, I dialed Eduardo.

“I need confirmation. As fast as possible.”

“DNA?”

“Yes.” My voice was like steel. “And no more blind spots. I want surveillance on her building, her routine, the kid’s school. But they don’t get wind of it. No scares. No contact.”

“You think the boy is yours?”

“That’s what I want you to find out for me,” I snapped.

There was silence on the other end before Eduardo said, “I’ll get it done.”

I ended the call.

I turned the corner and stopped near a café, the scent of espresso wafting into the air. A small family sat outside, mother, father, daughter. The girl laughed, sticky fingers gripping a pastry. The man leaned in to wipe her cheek, kissing the top of her head.

Something twisted in my chest, sharp and unwanted.

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Chapter 11

Was that what I’d missed? Five years of something I never even knew I had?

Or had Isabella lied because she’d known exactly what it would do to me?

I remembered her at the door, fury flashing behind those eyes I used to crave. She hadn’t trembled. She hadn’t softened. She hadn’t even looked at me like a man she once loved.

Only like a man she once survived.

That struck harder than anything.

But I hadn’t come this far to walk away.

Not now.

I knew I’d been way in over my head back then, that I hadn’t treated her right. But I was ready to make amends. I was ready to do whatever it took to get her back.

And I would.

You hid yourself and my son from me, I thought. But not anymore.

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