His Merciless Redemption novel Chapter 4

The Vow

Finally, it was time.

After Dominic had rejected me, and our child, squashing all my hopes of reconciliation, I had quietly bided my time, waiting for a month to be over.

I had rehearsed my departure so many times it felt like muscle memory now.

I had moved everything I would need—which wasn’t much, really—in small stacks from the Russo Mansion to my studio so no one would be suspicious. I didn’t think anyone cared much about what I did or didn’t do in this grand palace of a house, but I hadn’t taken any risks, especially now that a child was involved as well. All my things would be shipped along with my studio supplies this morning, and the flight to Florence was booked for tonight. My assistant at the studio had arranged it all for me, believing I was simply relocating for work.

Only I knew that I wasn’t coming back.

I’d already informed the HR head at my new job in Florence about my unexpected pregnancy, and they had been more than accommodating about it.

Such kindness from strangers I was yet to meet in person when I hadn’t recieved even an ounce of it at the place I called home had brought tears to my eyes. Not only had it made me emotional, but it had also cemented my decision to leave even more. I’d rather be somewhere I was valued and cared for than here, where I volleyed between a nobody, or an inconvenience.

I double-checked the handbag I had readied to take with me: passport, medical file, appointment slip from my gynaecologist, the sonogram I hadn’t shown anyone.

I had barely slept. My escape plan was a fragile secret stitched together with trembling hands and whispered prayers.

This morning, I was supposed to visit my gynecologist. Afterwards, I’d take a cab straight to the airport. From there, me and my child—our child—would vanish.

I had already gotten my copy of the final divorce certificate yesterday, and had arranged for Dominic’s copy to be mailed to him with a deliberate delay of three days after my departure.

With a quiet sigh, I smoothed down my dress, and picked up my bag.

Time to go.

I hadn’t expected, or wanted to see Dominic before leaving the Russo Mansion for the last time in my life.

But when I walked down the stairs, he was sitting in the living room, dark suit immaculate, sipping coffee as though nothing in the world could touch him. His composure always left me breathless, once in awe, now in anguish. Though surprisingly enough, Alessia wasn’t clinging to him today.

Even though I’d mentally prepared for the possibility of seeing him, my heart still stuttered in my chest as he gave me a slow once over.

“You’re dressed early,” Dominic noted, eyes narrowing at my simple dress. “Where are you going?”

“The doctor,” I said evenly, with practiced ease, hand brushing over my stomach instinctively. “I have an appointment.”

His gaze flicked downward, then back up, unreadable.

“You’re still entertaining this idea?” His tone was too casual, too sharp. “Isabella, I told you before… think about what this means. A child, in our world, is leverage. A weakness.”

My throat tightened. “A weakness? He’s our child, Dominic.”

He set down his cup with deliberate care. “Don’t be naïve. This is not the right time for a baby. I already have a lot of enemies breathing down my neck right now. An heir paints a target on your back, too. On his back. I’ve seen what happens.”

I shook my head. What was he talking about? He was an heir to his father’s empire, too, wasn’t he? He had taken over their business from his father when his health declined, had he not? And he was fine— clearly alive, well protected. So, why couldn’t our child be protected the same way?

What a pathetic excuse for not wanting a kid.

My voice trembled, but I forced it to be steady. “So what? You want me to—”

His jaw ticked. “I’m telling you, end it before someone else ends it for you. Because if you don’t, Isabella—”

I froze. “If I don’t, what?” I challenged, my heart thundering in my chest.

The silence between us stretched, suffocating. His eyes darkened, and the next words slipped out, low, cold, stripped of softness.

“Then you’ll force my hand.”

The explosion flung me backward. Screams filled the street. Medics rushed to the scene from behind me. Heat licked my skin as I scrambled to my feet, terror thundering in my veins.

I stared at the burning shell of the car, realization dawning with ice-cold clarity as I watched someone pull a charred body out.

It was him.

Dominic.

He had done this.

It had to be. Dominic had warned me. Threatened me. If I didn’t obey, he’d force my hand. He hadn’t denied when I’d accused him of wanting to kill me. And now this.

My heart clenched painfully in my chest. My baby. My sweet, innocent child. Dominic had tried to kill not only me, but our child, too. An innocent life that had done nothing to harm him.

There was no going back from this.

I staggered to the street corner, flagged down a bus with shaking hands, and boarded without looking back. My things were already shipped, my new life already waiting.

Florence. A new name. A new future.

And a vow carved into my soul:

I would never return.

Not to him. Not to this life.

Not after this betrayal.