His Merciless Redemption novel Chapter 175

Chapter 175

Dominic’s POV

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The conference room was already full when I walked in. That much was expected. What I hadn’t expected was how naturally Isabella occupied the space.

It reminded me of the first time I’d seen her in an office setting, heading a meeting like this. If anything, she only seemed to have improved with time. And I was proud of her for it.

Isabella stood near the head of the table, speaking quietly with two curators, a set of plans spread out in front of her. Luca stood beside her, reviewing something on his tablet.

The moment I stepped in, the room shifted. Conversations paused. Chairs straightened. Respect, automatic, and ingrained, settled into the air.

“Mr. Russo,” one of the senior curators greeted, rising slightly.

I nodded once. “Let’s begin,” I said, taking my seat at the head of the table.

Isabella didn’t sit immediately. For a brief second, we stood across from each other.

Then she took the seat to my right, close enough to feel her presence, far enough to feel the distance.

“Shall we?” I said.

She gave a small nod. And the meeting began.

“We’re finalizing the Milan adaptation of the Renaissance Revival structure,” Isabella said, taking over the floor with ease.

A screen lit up behind her.

“Florence was immersive. Milan needs to be experiential and dynamic,” she explained, her voice steady, confident, every word deliberate.

I watched the room respond. They listened to her, not out of obligation, but of respect. And she had earned that.

“The Sforza segment,” she continued, “will shift from static display to guided progression.”

One of the curators leaned forward. “That increases complexity.”

“It increases engagement,” she replied immediately. “And engagement is what sustains long-term success.”

There was a quiet murmur of agreement.

I leaned forward slightly. “What about scalability?” I asked.

The room stilled subtly. She turned to me, not an ounce of hesitation on her face.

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Chapter 175

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“No compromise,” she said. “If we dilute the experience for scalability, we lose the core identity of the project.”

A clean answer. Confident. But not dismissive.

She held my gaze. Waiting.

I nodded once. “Fair.”

And just like that, the discussion moved forward.

Luca spoke next, sliding a digital layout onto the main screen. “We’ve been reviewing footfall projections,” he said. “The current entry sequence could bottleneck during peak hours.”

He tapped the screen.

“We recommend shifting the entrance flow to the left corridor.”

Isabella studied it. Then nodded. “That works.”

I glanced at the layout. “Adjusting the entry point affects security flow,” I said. “Have you accounted for that?”

Luca didn’t hesitate. “Yes. Revised security mapping is already in progress.”

I turned slightly towards him. “Show me.”

He handed the tablet across. I reviewed it briefly. I had to give it to him, he had definitely done his homework thoroughly.

I handed the tablet back. “Proceed.”

Isabella made a note without looking at me. The meeting so far was nothing but seamless and efficient. She led the creative direction while I guided structure and execution. We were two forces, intersecting sometimes, clashing subtly but still functioning professionally. Like we had once worked together before everything became complicated.

The meeting continued in that rhythm.

At one point, a junior curator began explaining a lighting concept. “It’s meant to create a softer emotional tone-”

“It’s too flat,” Isabella cut in calmly.

The room went quiet. The curator faltered. But she didn’t soften her tone.

“Renaissance isn’t soft,” she continued. “It’s dramatic. It’s contrast. Light and shadow.”

She gestured towards the screen. “We need intensity, not comfort.”

She didn’t mince her words. There was no apology, no hesitation, just the truth spoken professionally with logical backing. It made me admire her intellect that much more. I could see how everyone present agreed with her insights and respected her decisions as well.

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Chapter 175

The curator nodded quickly. “Understood.”

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I couldn’t take my eyes off of her as she continued to practically dominate the meeting. There was no arrogance in the way she spoke. Just certainty.

She knew exactly what she was building. And she refused to let anyone dilute it.

Halfway through the meeting, I noticed something.

There was a pause in her movements, small, almost imperceptible. Her hand stilled on the table. Her shoulders tensed slightly.

Then she blinked.

And continued.

“….we’ll finalize the artifact placements by-”

“You alright?” The words left my mouth before I could

The room went quiet again.

Her eyes snapped to mine. Sharp. Controlled.

stop

them.

“I’m fine,” she replied, waving off my concern as if it were nothing.

Luca leaned slightly towards her. “You look pale.”

“I said I’m fine,” she replied, shutting him down as well.

Then she straightened, picked up her pen, and continued as if nothing had happened.

But I didn’t miss it.

As the meeting moved towards final decisions, the tension sharpened again.

“We need final approvals by Monday,” I said. “Timelines are tight.”

“They’re manageable,” she replied. “If decisions are made efficiently.”

I held her gaze. “And if they aren’t?”

“Then delays are a consequence of poor planning.”

A beat.

Then she added, “Which could have been avoided with better foresight.”

The words hung between us, heavy and double-edged.

We both knew she wasn’t just talking about the project.

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I leaned back in my seat. There was so much I wanted to say to her. So much I wanted to apologise for. Yes, I knew I should’ve had better foresight. Could have done things differently, specially about how she found out about the engagement thing. But then again, she still wouldn’t have agreed to stay. I wouldn’t have asked her to, either. I respected her more than that.

But not here, not in front of others.

So I simply nodded.

She closed her file. “Then, we proceed as discussed,” she said. “Final revisions by Friday. Implementation next week.”

Then she glanced at me with a questioning look.

I understood without her having to say anything.

I gave a single nod. “Approved.”

That was all the room needed. The meeting was over. Chairs shifted. People stood. Conversations resumed.

But the balance had been established clearly.

She led the vision. I held the authority.

And together, whether we liked it or not, we still worked.

The room began to empty. One by one, people filtered out until it was just us and the silence that followed.

She gathered her papers calmly, not rushing, not lingering, just composed. Like the past hour hadn’t been charged with everything we weren’t saying.

I stood slowly, watching her. The way she moved. The way she carried herself, Strong. Self-assured. Untouchable.

And in that moment, I felt something deeper than frustration.

Pride.

And regret.

Because she had become everything she was meant to be.

And I wasn’t the one standing beside her anymore.

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