His Merciless Redemption novel Chapter 3

Unspoken Things

Dominic’s POV

I wasn’t a man who missed details. I could spot a lie in the flicker of an eye, a betrayal in a half-beat pause over dinner.

So how had I missed this?

I stood at the doorway of our bedroom, arms folded, watching Isabella silently fold clothes into neat stacks.

Not designer dresses she wore for events, not the cocktail gowns that hugged her curves the way I liked. No, these were soft knits, linen shirts—things she used for travel.

“Going somewhere?” I asked, keeping my tone carefully neutral.

Isabella startled slightly, but she didn’t look up.

“Just… reorganizing.”

I frowned. There was something in the way she kept her back half-turned toward me, as though she was shielding something I couldn’t see.

Over the past two weeks, she had become quieter. Not cold exactly—but withdrawn, guarded.

Our conversations stayed polite, even warm at times, but lacked the sharp edge of our earlier fights. I almost preferred the fights. At least then, she met me head-on.

Now, it felt like she was retreating behind walls I hadn’t even noticed her building.

“Isabella,” I said, walking closer. “What’s going on?”

She stilled for a heartbeat, then set down the shirt she was folding and faced me with a smile that was a touch too calm.

“Nothing’s going on, Dominic. Why do you ask?”

I didn’t believe her. But I didn’t know what I was accusing her of, either.

Later that night, I found her in the garden, sitting on the stone bench with her hands absentmindedly resting over her stomach.

My gaze drifted there before I could stop it.

She was carrying my child. Our child. I’d confirmed with the family gynaecologist she’d met with the day after she’d told me she was pregnant. According to her, Isabella was roughly ten weeks along. Which meant she had concieved the last time we had had sex.

I knew she had decided to keep the baby.

I, however, was yet to decide how I felt about it.

I had too many enemies looking for a weakness to strike on right now. And a child would be the biggest weakness of all. I didn’t think it was a good idea to have a child at a time like this.

“You should be resting,” I said to her instead, leaning against the column.

“I am resting,” she replied without looking at me.

There was no bite in her tone, but there was no softness either.

“Isabella…” I exhaled slowly, running a hand through my hair. “If you’re upset about what I said the other night-”

She turned sharply, her eyes glinting even in the dim light.

What did she want from me, really? To sit in bed and whisper sweet words when there were wars to be fought? To hold her hand when my enemies were plotting to bury us both?

I didn’t have time for that. Not yet.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like Isabella. In fact, there were moments I admired her—her quiet resilience, the softness in her voice when she spoke with staff, the warmth in her smile when she thought no one was looking.

But admiration was a luxury, and I didn’t live on luxuries. I lived on necessity.

And necessity meant prioritizing the business. Prioritizing survival.

Isabella would understand, one day, when things were calmer. When the smoke cleared, when Alessia and the others no longer had to sit at my side through every meeting, every negotiation. I would have the time then.

For now, she needed to be patient. To trust me.

But instead, she was folding travel clothes. Speaking with an edge in her voice.

Acting as though I had failed her, when I had given her everything that mattered.

I sighed, staring out into the night, the weight of a thousand unspoken things pressing against my chest. I lit a cigarette to calm my nerves.

I wasn’t wrong.

I couldn’t be wrong.

Could I?