His Ruthless Redemption (Isabella and Dominic) novel Chapter 8

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49

After the meeting with the legal team in the afternoon, the contract was finalised. Thankfully, the meeting had gone off without a hitch. Dominic hadn’t tried to corner me again, which was a good thing. I knew he wasn’t someone who would back off so easily, but I’d happily take any wins I could get when it came to him.

All that was left to do now was to get the contract signed. Traditionally, we always do the signing over dinner to increase the bonding between both companies. So, in keeping with that tradition, we had booked a place for that tonight. The restaurant we had picked was high-end, discreet, chosen specifically to host business negotiations without prying eyes.

I sat at one end of the long private table with Chiara and two members of the gallery’s board. Across from us, Dominic’s team filtered in, led by Dominic himself.

Our gazes collided instantly.

“Shall we begin?” Chiara asked cheerfully, gesturing for the waiter to pour wine.

The servers moved with quiet efficiency, setting plates and glasses as though they couldn’t feel the tension thickening the air.

I kept my expression neutral, my posture regal and relaxed, even though my stomach was wound tight.

I could do this.

I’d worked too hard, climbed too far, to let Dominic Russo drag me back into the shadows I’d escaped from.

Dominic watched my every move, every measured smile I gave to Chiara and the board members just like he’d been doing at the previous two meetings we’d sat in together so far.

I knew I was different now, radiant, confident. Alive in ways I had never been back in New York.

And it infuriated him, because he couldn’t decide if he wanted to break down my walls or burn them to the ground.

“Mr. Russo,” one of the board members began, “Florence is excited for this collaboration. It’s rare to have someone of your reputation partner with a cultural project.”

Dominic gave a polite nod but didn’t look away from me.

“Sometimes it’s worth investing in things you thought you’d lost.”

My fingers tightened slightly on my wineglass, but I didn’t look at him.

“Loss can be a great teacher,” I said smoothly, still focused on the board member. “It teaches us what we can live without.”

The subtext didn’t go unnoticed.

The board member chuckled awkwardly, unaware of the personal war being fought across the table.

21:41 Wed, Jan 14

Chapter 8

(49)

Halfway through the meal, Dominic finally leaned slightly forward, voice low enough that only I could hear.

“Five years, Isa. We’re not done talking.”

I sipped my wine calmly before replying just as quietly, “You’re right. We’re not. But you’re going to have to wait your turn like everyone else.”

Dominic’s jaw flexed. He looked like he wanted to say something, but chose to remain quiet instead.

The dinner wound up eventually without any incident. The board members shook hands with Dominic and his team before exiting the room, chatting easily as they made their way to the elevators. Chiara glanced between Dominic and me with a knowing smile.

I’d attended a lot of these dinners to know what was coming next. I braced myself for Chiara’s next words.

“Since the contracts need signatures tonight and the board’s next meeting isn’t for another month, I’ve asked the staff to leave this room for your use,” she said smoothly. “We’ll wait outside. Call if you need us.”

Before I could say anything in reply, Chiara had ushered everyone out, leaving me alone with Dominic Russo.

The silence stretched for a moment, thick enough to smother.

Dominic leaned back in his chair, unbuttoning his suit jacket as if settling in for a fight.

“You always did have a habit of running after dropping bombs.”

I didn’t rise to the bait. I took out the contract from my leather folder, sliding it across the table towards him.

“Read it. Sign it. We can be done in ten minutes.”

Dominic didn’t touch the papers. His dark eyes stayed fixed on my face, studying every flicker of emotion I refused to let show.

“Ten minutes? After five years? That’s all you think this deserves?”

“What do you want me to say?” I shot back, finally meeting his gaze. “You buried me once already. Isn’t that enough?”

His jaw tightened, but his voice remained low and calm, almost too calm.

“Don’t you dare throw that at me, Isabella. I watched them pull pieces of you from rubble. I gave you a funeral.”

“You gave me nothing,” I cut in sharply, my control cracking for the first time. “Not when I begged you to see me, not when I told you about the baby, not when Alessia-”

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