His Merciless Redemption novel Chapter 57

Chapter 57

Isabella’s POV

72

65 vouchers

It had been a while since the call ended, but I couldn’t get my mind off of it.

Regret. Shame. Anger. Want. They tangled inside me like wires sparking in the dark.

I pressed my forehead to the bar, the wood cool against my skin. The music thumped through my bones, too loud, too bright. Someone laughed nearby. Luca said something I couldn’t make out. Chiara rubbed my back, telling me to breathe.

And then the air changed.

It was stupid to think I wouldn’t feel him before I saw him even when I was drunk out of my mind.

The room seemed to narrow, like every doorway and shadow curved inward towards one point. Towards him. My spine went stiff. My breath stilled.

“Isabella.”

His voice, low, and lethal, cut through the bar’s noise like a blade.

I turned.

Dominic stood there, black shirt sleeves rolled up, jaw clenched, eyes dark and furious and worried. For a moment I thought the alcohol was playing tricks on me, because he didn’t look like the cold, distant man I once ran from.

He looked like something beautiful, like something dangerous.

He moved towards me and the crowd parted instinctively, like their bodies knew better even if their minds didn’t.

“Time to go,” he said.

“I’m not done,” I slurred, lifting my glass like proof.

His jaw flexed. “Yes, you are.”

“I said I’m not-”

He leaned down, breath warm against my cheek, voice quiet enough only I could hear.

“If I have to pick you up and carry you out of here, I will. Don’t test me right now.”

The threat shouldn’t have felt like protection.

But my stupid heart couldn’t tell the difference.

12:59 Sat, Jan 17

Chapter 57

:

72

255 vouchers-

Luca appeared at my other side like a shield. “She doesn’t have to go with you if she doesn’t want to.”

Dominic didn’t even look at him. His eyes stayed on me. Only on me.

“Isa?” he asked, voice no longer sharp, but unbearably soft.

And that was somehow worse.

I hated how it made something inside me tremble.

“I don’t-” My throat tightened. “I don’t know what I want.”

His brows pulled in, and for the first time, he looked lost.

Then he finally turned to Luca, voice controlled to the point of breaking. “Thank you for taking care of her and for staying with her. But I’m taking her home.”

Luca ignored him, studying me quietly instead. “Isa?”

I swallowed hard. “It’s fine,” I said, even though nothing was fine.

Dominic stepped closer, slipping an arm around me just as the world tilted. The bar swayed. My legs wobbled and I hated how naturally my body leaned into his.

Like muscle memory.

Like home.

He didn’t say a word as he guided me out the door, but I could feel the storm inside him with every step.

The cold night air hit like a slap. Dominic opened the passenger door and paused, blocking me from getting in.

“You’re drunk,” he said.

“Is that a crime now?”

“No. But thinking you mean what you said to me on the phone might be.”

My heart stuttered. “I meant it.”

His breath hitched, barely audible, but I heard it.

“I don’t understand,” he said, voice low, “what you think I feel. But you’re wrong.”

“Oh, right, I forgot,” I muttered. “You only feel responsible. Not attached. Not anything.”

His eyes flashed. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you ever used yours clearly.”

12:59 Sat, Jan 17

Chapter 57

720

65 vouchers

We were too close. The kind of close where our breaths mingled. The kind of close that made the edges between anger and yearning blur until I didn’t know which one was killing me faster. The kind of close where if I leaned forward an inch, we’d touch. And God, did I want to. Just an inch, and we’d be kissing.

He pulled back, swallowing thickly. “Get in the car.”

It felt like a rejection. And it stung more than I cared to admit.

“No.”

“Isa-”

“You only care because of Mateo.”

The words detonated between us.

His nostrils flared. “Of course I care because of Mateo, he’s my son.” His voice dropped then, rough and unsteady. “But if you think that’s the only reason-”

“Isn’t it?” I whispered.

He stared at me like the truth was a wall he couldn’t break through.

“I don’t know how to talk to you,” he admitted. “Every time I try, you flinch like I’m going to hurt you. And I -“His voice cracked. Just once. “I hate that I’m the reason you flinch.”

My vision blurred, alcohol, or tears, or both.

“Then why does it feel like you’re choosing her?” I asked, voice breaking. “Why does it feel like it’s always her?”

Silence dropped between us like a guillotine.

He closed his eyes. “You’re not in the right state of mind to have this conversation. Get in the car. Please.”

That please shattered me.

I finally sat.

He shut the door gently, like I was something fragile, like I might break if the latch clicked too loudly.

The drive was quiet.

Too quiet.

Streetlights flashed across his face, carving shadows in places I didn’t want to look. My forehead pressed against the cool glass window. The world blurred past in streaks of gold and blue.

Halfway home, I whispered, “Why did you come?”

He didn’t hesitate.

12:59 Sat, Jan 17

Chapter 57

ช

55 vouchers

“I texted and you replied,” he said. “We talked on the phone, and you sounded drunk. That’s enough.”

A laugh escaped me, small, and broken. “And Alessia? Did she give you permission to pick up Mateo’s mother tonight?”

His hands tightened on the wheel. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Turn this into something it isn’t.”

I stared at him, my heart ripping open in the dark. “Then what is it, Dominic? Because I can’t figure it out anymore.”

His voice was barely audible when he replied, “I’m trying to.”

“Trying isn’t always enough.”

“I know.”

We didn’t speak after that.

When we reached the villa, he helped me out, his hand warm on my waist even though neither of us acknowledged it. The house was quiet. Maria must’ve already tucked Mateo into bed.

At my door, he stopped.

“Isabella,” he murmured, eyes searching mine like there was an answer hidden there, “I don’t want to be another mistake you survive.”

The ground seemed to vanish beneath me.

I could barely breathe.

“How would you know?” I whispered.

He looked away then, jaw clenched like he didn’t know what to say.

“I wouldn’t,” he said after a pause. “But I’m trying my best not to be.”

It wasn’t enough. I didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the ache or the five years of everything between us, but

I stepped back, closed the door, and leaned against it with shaking hands.

And for a long moment, I thought I could hear the sound of his heartbeat on the other side.

Or maybe it was mine.

Either way, it hurt.

12:59 Sat, Jan 17