His Ruthless Redemption (Isabella and Dominic) novel Chapter 88

Chapter 88

Chapter 88

Isabella’s POV

For a handful of stolen minutes that morning, I almost forgot how to breathe carefully.

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I balanced the tray against my hip and pushed the bedroom door open, the scent of warm chocolate pancakes curling through the air. Dominic was half-reclined against the headboard with Mateo sprawled beside him like he belonged there. Like this was normal. Like this was home. Mateo’s head snapped up at the sound of me entering.

“PANCAKES!” he announced loudly.

Dominic laughed, low and rich, his hand automatically coming up to steady Mateo before he could fling himself forward. “Your mother is dangerous.”

“Because I cook?” I teased, setting the tray between them.

“Because you make mornings like this feel unfair to the rest of the world.”

My chest tightened.

Mateo grabbed a pancake with both hands, chocolate smearing his fingers and mouth within seconds. “This is the best day ever.”

Dominic looked at me over Mateo’s head, something unbearably soft in his eyes. Pride. Gratitude. Something that looked terrifyingly close to love.

And for a moment, just a fragile, little moment, I let myself imagine this being my life. Waking up like this. Feeding them. Laughing. No secrets. No shadows.

But the images Alessia had shown me burned behind my eyes like scars that refused to fade.

I had let myself go last night and earlier this morning too, but I couldn’t let myself fall any deeper without knowing the truth.

Dominic caught me staring. “What?”

“Nothing,” I lied, smiling.

Mateo yawned, the sugar rush already giving way to sleepiness.

“I need to shower and head out,” Dominic said, glancing at me. “There are a few loose ends from yesterday I need to take care of.”

I nodded, watching him rise, watching the way he leaned down to kiss Mateo’s hair. His hand hovered near my cheek, hesitating, wanting, before he looked at Mateo and pulled back. He didn’t touch me then, a silent understanding passing between us that we wouldn’t be too affectionate in front of Mateo just yet.

Once he walked out of the room, the warmth ebbed. Reality crept back in, cold and sharp.

15:49 Fri, May 15

Chapter 88

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I bathed Mateo, listened to his chatter, wrapped him in a towel. When I settled him at the table with his crayons, my hands were shaking slightly.

“I’m going to talk to Alessia,” I said lightly.

“Okay,” he replied, already lost in his coloring.

My legs felt heavy as I walked down towards Alessia’s room.

Her door was open.

She stood by the window, sunlight spilling over her like she’d always belonged there. Like this house had been hers long before I ever stepped back into it.

Her lips curved into that same knowing smile when she saw me.

“We need to talk,” I said.

Her brows lifted. “Of course we do.”

I didn’t sit. I couldn’t. My body felt too coiled, too tight with everything I was holding in.

“If Dominic is really the father of your child,” I said, voice painfully steady, “then why does he think you got pregnant from a one-night stand?”

Her smile flickered for a second. “He’s lying,” she said quickly.

“No,” I snapped, heat rushing up my spine. “He isn’t.”

Something in my tone made her straighten.

“I believe him,” I continued. “Which means one of you is lying. And it’s not him.”

The room went very still.

Then Alessia laughed, but there was nothing amused about it. It was sharp. Defensive. Hollow.

“You think I’d lie about something like this?” she shot back. “You think I’d invent a pregnancy?”

“I think you’ve been letting me believe something that isn’t true,” I said, my voice cracking now despite my effort to keep it together. “And I want to know why.”

That was when her composure cracked. “I’m not lying,” she said, louder now. “Not about the one-night stand. Not about Dominic being the father. And not about those pictures.”

“Aren’t you? Explain it to me then,” I demanded. “Because right now none of this makes sense.”

Her shoulders slumped, like she’d been carrying this truth alone for too long. “He doesn’t remember,” she said, her expression the saddest I’d ever seen on her.

“What?” I whispered.

15:49 Fri, May 15

Chapter 88

“He was drunk,” she said, voice trembling now. “Too drunk. He didn’t know what he was doing.”

My vision blurred for a moment. What was she talking about?

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“It was one night,” she continued. “After the Santino deal. He barely remembers anything from that evening. He doesn’t remember me.”

My chest felt like it was collapsing inwards. “You’re saying he doesn’t know he slept with you?”

“No,” she said quietly. “He doesn’t.”

“And you let him believe it was someone else?” I demanded, anger finally breaking free. “You let him think it was a random man?”

Her jaw clenched. “I didn’t think he’d believe me. And he was already helping me. I didn’t want to ruin that.”

The room suddenly felt suffocating.

“And the pictures?” I whispered.

“They’re real,” she said without hesitation. “But he doesn’t remember them.”

I felt sick.

Everything inside me twisted-sympathy, anger, disbelief, jealousy, guilt.

“So you’re carrying his child,” I said slowly, “and he doesn’t even know the truth.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

She met my gaze, eyes blazing. “I’m surviving.”

That word lodged in my chest like a blade. Surviving. I’d survived once, too.

“If you don’t believe me,” she added, softer now, “ask him where he was the night the Santino deal was signed.”

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