His Ruthless Redemption (Isabella and Dominic) novel Chapter 65

Chapter 65

Chapter 65

Dominic’s POV

I didn’t take her to the living room. I couldn’t.

It felt too exposed, too far from what I needed to do.

Instead, I guided her to the kitchen, quiet, warm, and lit only by the under–cabinet lights. It felt like another world from the alley, where her scream echoed against my ribs like something breaking.

Isabella sat on a stool, hands folded in her lap.

She was still shaking.

I hated that.

I found the first aid kit like it was muscle memory. My hands didn’t tremble, they never do, but tonight, I felt something close.

“Let me see.” I said softly.

She hesitated a little before offering her hand. Her wrist is scraped raw from where that bastard shoved her, skin reddened and angry.

It’s a small injury. Barely anything. But on her, it felt like an unforgivable crime.

I cleaned the cut slowly, carefully, like she might shatter.

The disinfectant stung, and she winced.

“Sorry.” I murmured.

“It’s fine,” she whispered.

Her voice was thin, tired, worn to the bone. I hated that too.

I wrapped the gauze around her wrist, and as I did, a memory blindsided me.

Her, barely eighteen. Desperate. Determined.

Hands trembling as she tried to stitch up her own knife wound because she didn’t want to disturb anyone. Because she thought she didn’t matter enough to ask for help.

That was the night I had found her. The night my control had shattered. The night we had slept together for the first time.

I still remembered seeing her, the innocence on her face, the determined fire in her eyes, it was what had drawn me to her like a moth to a flame. Every protective instinct in me had woken up then, and I’d wanted nothing more than to shield her from every adversity in life.

The night I had realized that innocence wasn’t a weakness, it was strength sharpened by pain.

The night I had offered her a marriage that was meant to protect her.

It should have protected her.

1/4

1:03 pm

Chapter 55

But I had failed.

I secured the last piece of tape and sat back. The kitchen was silent, except for the hum of the refrigerator.

Isabella stared at her wrist, then at me.

I didn’t know what she saw when she looked at me.

A man? A monster? Both?

“You did well tonight.” I finally said, voice low. “More than well. You walked into a lion’s den and didn’t break. Do you understand what that means?”

She blinked, startled. She clearly hadn’t been expecting me to say something like this. But tonight, she had earned my respect and much more.

“You think people underestimate you because you’re quiet.” I continued. “Because you’re gentle. But what you did tonight-”

My throat tightened.

“I’ve run with men twice your size who don’t have a fraction of your spine.”

Something flickered in her eyes. Hope? Pain? I couldn’t tell.

“You’re a good mother,” I added, quieter, “A good woman. Better than I ever deserved.”

I didn’t touch her.

But I wanted to.

God, I wanted to.

I wanted to tilt her chin up and kiss her until the world stopped hurting. Until she believed every word I just said. Until she knew what she was to me even if I didn’t know how to say it.

But when I reached for her wrist, she pulled back, gentle, not cruel.

“I need to tell you something,” she said. She sounded steadier now, stronger. “Something I learned tonight.”

That cold thing in my chest returned.

I nodded, urging her to continue.

“There’s a mole,” she said. “In your organization. Someone close enough to know about us, about you. Someone you trust.”

The world froze.

My pulse didn’t speed up. It nearly stopped.

A mole.

Inside my house.

Inside my circle.

Inside the line between life and death.

2/4

1:04 pm

Chapter 63

yében farz

“Did they say who?” I managed.

“No. They wouldn’t give me a name.” She shook her head. “But they implied it’s someone close. Someone you’d never

suspect.”

My mind flashed through possibilities like a deck of cards being thrown through flame. Names. Faces. Years of loyalty turning to ash.

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