His Merciless Redemption novel Chapter 113

Chapter 113

Chapter 113

Isabella’s POV

Dominic never missed a night.

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No matter how late it was. No matter how briefly he came home. No matter how exhausted he looked the few times I caught

a glimpse of him through the crack in my door or the reflection in the hallway mirror.

Every night, there were papers slid carefully under my door.

Sometimes one page. Sometimes three. Once, five, his handwriting tighter, more cramped, like the day had been too long to fit neatly into words.

He was meticulous.

Times. Places. Names. Notes in the margins when something hadn’t gone as planned.

Crossed-out sentences where he’d started to justify himself and then, visibly, thought better of it.

I read every single one.

Some nights, I heard him come home just to slip those papers under my door and leave again minutes later. I’d see the faint sweep of headlights through the window, the quiet retreat of his car down the drive.

He didn’t knock.

He didn’t try to talk to me.

He just left the truth behind like an offering and disappeared back into the dark.

I hated how much that affected me.

I hated that part of me softened at the consistency. At the restraint. At the way he did exactly what he’d promised and nothing more.

And yet.

Intentions weren’t the same thing as impact.

Now that my anger had faded a bit, giving way to rational thought, I’d tried to put myself in his shoes and see why he had done what he had. His reasoning wasn’t monstrous. It wasn’t careless. In his world, it even made sense.

But understanding didn’t erase the damage.

It didn’t erase the nights I’d spent wide awake, convinced I had crossed a line I could never return from. It didn’t erase the way my trust had fractured, not loudly, but invisibly.

And that kind of break was harder to mend.

Some days, I thought I could forgive him.

Some days, I wondered why I kept trying.

He had hurt me before. Not always intentionally. But consistent enough that it had carved something hollow into my chest.

Was I strong enough to keep giving him chances?

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Chapter 113

Did I even want to be?

Work helped.

Routine helped.

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I went to the office. I took meetings. I laughed when appropriate I talked to Chaira and Luca and the others like everything

in my life was dandy. I listened to Mateo’s stories about school and nodded in the right places. I lived my life.

Dominic lived his, parallel but separate.

He was still busy. Still gone more than he was home. Dinners were missed. Mornings were rushed.

But now, I always knew where he was.

Meeting in Livorno. Checking on shipment reroute. Hospital visit, no interaction.

The last one always made my chest tighten, even now.

It was reassuring, in a way. Knowledge had a steadiness to it.

But trust?

Trust needed more than transparency.

It needed safety.

And I didn’t know if my heart was ready to offer that again.

The weekend came quietly.

No alarms. No rushing out the door. The villa felt softer somehow, filled with sunlight instead of tension. Maybe being in the know how made me feel that way.

Caterina stood at the kitchen island, a basket of vegetables laid out before her, gesturing animatedly as she talked to Mateo. I watched them quietly, frowning a little to myself. Honestly, some days, I thought that Caterina did too much for us, for this house. She didn’t have to, but I had a feeling that that was just the way she was wired, and nothing would probably change that.

“You can’t rush the onions,” she was saying to Mateo. “They need patience. Like people.”

Mateo nodded solemnly. “Dominic doesn’t have patience.”

Caterina laughed. “That’s because he never learned it.”

I smiled faintly from where I stood near the counter, sipping coffee that had gone lukewarm without me noticing.

“Nonna,” Mateo said suddenly, “can I help?”

She turned towards him, smiling warmly. “Of course, amore-”

The word cut off mid-syllable.

Caterina swayed.

For a split second, my brain refused to process what my eyes we seeing. Then her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the floor with a dull, terrifying thud.

“Nonna!” Mateo screamed.

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III

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Chapter 113

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The mug slipped from my hand, shattering against the tiles as I rushed forward, my heart slamming violently against my

ribs.

“Caterina!” I dropped to my knees beside her, hands shaking as reached for her shoulders. “Caterina, can you hear me?”

Her eyes were closed. Her skin looked pale, too pale.

Panic flooded my chest, sharp and blinding.

“Mateo,” I said urgently, trying to keep my voice steady, “go get Maria. Now.”

He hesitated only a second before bolting.

I cradled Caterina’s head, brushing her hair back from her face. Stay with me,” I whispered. “Please. Just stay with me.”

Her chest rose and fell shallowly.

I fumbled for my phone with trembling fingers, already dialing Marco for help, my mind racing ahead to everything that could go wrong.

The house, so recently quiet, felt suddenly too big. Too empty.

And as fear wrapped tight around my heart, nothing but Catering and getting her to wake up mattered.

I didn’t care that she was Dominic’s mother and that things between him and me were broken.

None of that mattered.

The only thing that did was taking care of Caterina and making sure she was alright again.

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