Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
ROSALIA
The quiet inside the master suite feels smothering, wrapping around me like a cold blanket, even long after the lock clicks into place behind Dominic.
I sink onto the edge of the bed, the silk of my dress rustling softly against the duvet. My hands are still shaking, the fine tremble spreading all the way up my arms to my chest.
A small, warm weight presses against my shin.
I look down through a blur of unshed tears. Yapper is sitting by my feet, his dark, intelligent eyes searching mine, his tiny tail wagging once, twice, in a hesitant rhythm. He lets out a soft, sympathetic whine before leaning his small head directly against my ankle.
"Hey, buddy," I whisper, my voice cracking on the quiet greeting.
I reach down and pick him up, pulling him into my lap. He immediately curls into a small, warm ball against my stomach, resting his chin on my forearm. The steady rise and fall of his breathing is the only thing grounding me as the dam finally breaks inside my chest.
How could he do this?
A fresh wave of pain traces up my spine. I wrap my arms around Yapper, burying my face into his soft fur.
Everything we built—every gentle touch, every quiet look of understanding, every single moment where I foolishly let myself believe I was finally safe—was rooted in a lie.
He didn't save me out of some dark, sudden devotion.
He didn't marry me to protect me from Dante or to pull me out of the nightmare my life had become.
He married me because I was a key to a locked door.
I was an asset. A convenient legal proxy standing between him and a file that could destroy his empire.
He knew.
The thought stabs through me like a jagged glass shard. All those nights I lay awake in terror, suffocating under the phantom weight of handcuffs, convinced the police would burst through the door to arrest me for a murder I didn't commit—Dominic knew the whole time.
He sat right beside me, holding my hand, playing the stoic protector, while holding the absolute truth in his palm. He watched me bleed emotionally and chose to keep quiet just to serve his own agenda.
I scoff, wiping my face aggressively with the back of my hand, a hollow, painful ache settling deep in my ribs.
And the courtroom today... God, I had been such an absolute fool. When Judge Sterling delivered the ruling, when Dante lost his mind and Dominic held my face in his warm hands, I had actually believed him. I had looked into his eyes and thought, finally someone is fighting for me.
It was all strategy. It was all just him clearing the board so he could claim his ultimate prize.
"I care about you now," he had insisted, dropping to his knees as if that single confession could rewrite the foundation of poison he built us on.
I close my eyes, squeezing them shut against the memory of his raw, desperate voice. Part of me—the weak, desperate part of me that has craved genuine love for my entire life—wants so badly to believe him.
But how can I? How can I trust a man who played chess with my absolute worst trauma?
He told me he wasn't like Luciano. He told me he wasn't like my father.
But as I sit alone in the dim light of this massive, empty room, stroking Yapper's soft ears while my heart bleeds out in my chest, I can't tell where their shadows end and his begins.
I fumble for my phone on the nightstand, my fingers trembling so violently I almost drop it onto the floor.
For as long as I can remember, I have been the pillar.
I was the older sister who smoothed out the wrinkles, who swallowed her own terror to shield the rest of them, who smiled through the bruises so they wouldn't have to carry the weight of our family's sickness.
I hid my pain until it bled into my soul because protecting them was the only thing that gave my life purpose.
But right now, the weight is too heavy. I am drowning, and if I don't reach out, I will go under completely. They are the only people in this terrifying, corrupt world I can trust explicitly. The only blood that hasn't and will never betray me.
My shaky thumb taps on Eleonora’s name first.
It barely rings twice before the line connects.
"Rosalia?" Eleonora's voice comes through the speaker, light and warm. "Hey, how did the—"
"Hello?" I manage to choke out.
The silence on her end is instantaneous. "Rosalia? What's wrong? You sound... God, are you crying? What's happening?"
"I... I need to add everyone," I whisper, my throat tight as a sob threatens to claw its way out. "Hold on. Let me add the rest of the girls."
"Okay, okay, take a breath. I'm right here."
My hands shake as I quickly merge the calls, bringing Sienna, Daniela, and Camilla into the line one by one.
Within seconds, the quiet of the room is replaced by a chorus of confused, overlapping voices.
"Rosalia? Why is everyone on the line?" Sienna asks, her tone immediately sharp with suspicion.
"Did everything go okay with the trial?" Daniela chimed in, rustling papers in the background. "Wait, did something happen with Dominic?"
"Guys, what's going on?" Camilla’s soft voice cuts through, laced with instant anxiety. "Rosalia, talk to us. You're scaring me. Did Dante do anything? That bastard.”
"Everyone, stop," Eleonora interrupts, her voice carrying a quiet, commanding authority that cuts right through the noise. "Quiet down. It seems Rosalia has something to say."
The line drops into a tense silence.
I pull Yapper closer into my lap, pressing the phone tight against my ear as tears fall freely down my cheeks. I close my eyes, take a ragged, trembling breath, and finally let the fortress I built fall apart.
"We won the trial today," I start, my voice cracking down the middle. "But... but Dominic..."
And just like that, the floodgates collapse.
I tell them everything.
I tell them about the secret, encrypted file Luciano hid in my name—the blueprint of dark money, defense contracts, and political hits that could destroy Dominic's empire.
I tell them how he was the one who slipped into Luciano's room in the dead of night and ended his life.
I tell them how he let me sit in absolute terror for days, weeks, drowning in the fear that I would be dragged off to prison for murder, just so he could use our marriage as a legal shield to get his hands on that account.
By the time I finish detailing the sickening illusion of his affection—how he made me feel safe while using my worst trauma as a strategic lever—I am gasping for air, the line on the other end completely dead quiet.
For a long, agonizing minute, the only sound on the call is my ragged breathing and the soft, steady rhythmic whining of Yapper as he licks the tears off my arm.
Then, the silence shatters into a chorus of pure, protective warmth.
"Oh, man," Eleonora murmurs, her voice thick with immediate emotion. "Breathe. Just breathe, Rosalia. We're right here."
"I am going to rip his fucking throat out," Sienna growls, her voice vibrating with a sharp, murderous edge. "I don't care who he thinks he is. He played with your head, Rosalia. He let you sit in that terror while he watched?"
"Sienna, stop," Daniella cuts in, though her own voice is tight, trembling with restrained anger. "Let her speak. Let her just cry for a minute."
"Rosalia, you don't have to be strong right now," Camilla says softly, her gentleness pulling another quiet sob right out of my chest. "We hear you. Every single thing you're feeling right now? You have every right to feel it. He hurt you. He took advantage of a nightmare."
For ten straight minutes, they simply anchor me.
They validate every drop of pain, every shred of betrayal, letting me weep until the suffocating knot in my throat finally relaxes into a dull, heavy ache.
They don't minimize what he did, nor do they tell me I’m overreacting.
They surround me with the absolute, unwavering love that only sisters can give.
Once my breathing slows and the quiet settles back over the line, Eleonora takes a long, slow breath.
"Rosalia," Eleonora begins carefully, her tone turning thoughtful, measured. "What Dominic did at the beginning... it was dark. It was cold, calculated, and completely unforgivable on paper."
"It's evil," Sienna mutters, though the sharp fury in her voice has settled into a somber weight.
"It is," she continues quietly. "But... Rosalia, can I ask you something?"
I wipe my cheek with the sleeve of my dark dress. "What?"
"What matters right now... where does he stand today?" She asks softly. "Not when he was just trying to protect his empire. Today. You both didn’t care for each other then. You knew it was all business and politics when Dad sold you off."
I swallow hard, the memory of Dominic dropping to his knees on the hard floor flashing vividly behind my eyelids.
"He started on the absolute wrong foot, built on a mountain of secrets," Camilla adds, her voice gentle. " But think about how he has treated you since. Think about how he looks at you. Did he look like a man who was just executing a transaction?"
"He begged me," I whisper, the words barely carrying over the receiver. "He got on his knees. He told me... he said watching me smile today meant more to him than any file. He said he cared for me."
A soft, collective exhale ripples across the line.
"Rosalia," Eleonora says softly, carrying the full weight of an older sister's wisdom. "Stay calm. Take a step back from the shock of the secret, just for a moment, and look at the man he is with you right now. If he is genuinely sorry—if he truly means it and is willing to bleed to earn your trust back—maybe... just maybe... he’s worth trying to forgive. But only if you decide he’s earned it. "
"Can I really forgive him?" I whisper, staring up at the grand ceiling of the master suite. "After everything?"
"You don't have to decide that tonight," Eleonora says softly, her voice warm through the speaker. "You don't owe him immediate forgiveness, and you don't have to figure out the rest of your life right this second."
"Yeah," Sienna adds, her usual fiery tone softening. "Let him squirm for a bit. Let him prove it. You hold all the cards now."
“And for what it’s worth, I think we owe Dominic a vote of thanks,” Daniela says. “Cause I’m really freaking glad Luciano is dead.”
The sisters howl with laughter.
Right on cue, Yapper lets out a sudden bark from my lap, tossing his head back with a tiny, dramatic huff.
"Wait, what was that?" Camilla asks instantly.
"Did a dog just make bark?" Daniella squeals.
I can't help the small, breathless laugh that escapes my lips. "Yeah... I got a dog."
"What?!" all four of them shout in unison.
"Switch to video right now!" Sienna demands. "I need to see this creature immediately."
Swallowing down the lingering tight knot in my chest, I switch the call to video. The screen splits into four grids, revealing my sisters' eager faces. I angle the camera down toward Yapper, who sits up proudly, tilting his head with big, glassy eyes as the phone screen lights up.
"Oh my gosh!" Camilla coos, clutching her hands to her chest. "Look at those ears!"
"He's tiny!" Daniella giggles. "What's his name?"
"Yapper," I say, a small, genuine smile finally breaking through the heavy sadness on my face. "I got him as a stray. Dominic let me keep him."
For the next ten minutes, the air of betrayal and legal battles completely melts away. We talk about Yapper's ridiculous antics, my sisters taking turns making silly voices at the screen to get his attention, making me laugh until my cheeks ache in the best way possible.
When we finally say our goodbyes and the call ends, the quiet settles back into the room.
I set the phone down on the nightstand and sink back against the plush pillows. Yapper curls right into the bend of my waist, resting his tiny chin on my leg with a soft sigh.
Left alone with my own thoughts, the silence isn't as terrifying as it was an hour ago.
I stare up at the dim light reflecting off the ceiling, replaying the last few weeks in my head. Can I forgive Dominic?
It won't come easy. It can't. The deceit ran too deep, and the foundation was built on dark, ugly secrets. But as I peel back the layers of my anger, a quiet truth settles in my chest.
Dominic isn't a bad person. He’s a dangerous man who has done terrible things, yes, but with me... he's been something entirely different. He's been patient. He’s been surprisingly goofy, fiercely protective, and inexplicably tender.
And if I’m being completely honest with myself... I’ve never missed Luciano. Not for a single second. I’m actually relieved that the monster who tormented me is dead and gone, erased from this earth so he could never hurt me or anyone else again.
Dominic delivered a justice the law never would have given me.
I fall back flat onto the bed, staring up at the chandelier, taking a long, deep breath that expands fully in my chest for the first time all day.
I make my decision.
I won't let him off the hook completely—he still has to earn every single inch of my trust back. But I won't tear down what we've built, either. I won't walk away.