Chapter 65 The Breaking Point
?Isabella — POV
My ears rang.
Everything around me felt distant, like I was underwater and the world above the surface was happening too far away for me to reach.
My heart pounded so violently I thought it might tear through my chest.
No.
No, no, no.
I shook my head slowly, staring at Alexander.
“Please…” My voice came out broken. “Please tell me that’s not true.”
He didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
His eyes were fixed on me, dark and hollow, like someone had just ripped his soul out of his body.
My chest tightened painfully.
“Please tell me he’s lying,” I whispered. “Please tell me you didn’t kill my father.”
Silence.
Alexander still said nothing.
My heart began to race faster.
“Say something,” I said desperately.
Nothing.
My voice cracked.
“Answer me!”
My words echoed through the warehouse.
“Tell me it’s not true!”
My chest heaved as tears burned in my eyes.
“Tell me you didn’t kill him!”
Finally—
Alexander’s shoulders dropped slightly.
Like something inside him had just given up.
He looked at me like a man who had already lost everything.
“I’m sorry.”
The words shattered something inside my chest.
“I’m so sorry.”
His voice trembled slightly, and for the first time since I’d known him—
Alexander looked like he might cry.
My head shook violently.
“No.”
My voice was barely a whisper.
“No, no, no…”
“You didn’t kill him,” I said quickly, almost desperately. “I don’t believe that.”
Tears blurred my vision.
“You wouldn’t do that to me.”
My voice cracked again.
“Not after I helped you.”
My breathing came in short, broken gasps.
“You wouldn’t kill my father.”
Moretti laughed softly.
“Oh, he did.”
My stomach twisted violently.
Moretti stepped closer, watching me like a man enjoying a show.
“He put a bullet straight through your father’s heart.”
My chest felt like it collapsed inward.
Moretti tilted his head toward Alexander.
“Isn’t that right?”
My vision blurred as tears spilled down my cheeks.
“That’s where you shot him, right?” Moretti continued casually. “Right in the chest.”
“No!” I screamed.
The word ripped out of my throat before I could stop it.
The warehouse spun around me.
My mind suddenly filled with flashes—
My father lying on the floor.
Blood everywhere.
So much blood.
My hands pressed desperately against his chest.
Trying to stop the bleeding.
“Dad… please… please stay with me…”
His eyes rolling back.
His breathing slowing.
The smell of iron and rain and cold concrete.
I screamed again.
“Stop!”
But Moretti kept talking.
His voice cut through my memories like knives.
“You remember how much blood there was, don’t you?”
My entire body shook.
“You remember holding him while he died.”
“STOP!”
My voice broke as the memories crashed over me harder.
“You remember screaming for help.”
Tears streamed down my face.
“You remember watching the life leave his eyes.”
“PLEASE STOP!”
But Moretti didn’t stop.
In fact—
He sounded amused.
“And all that time,” he continued, “the man responsible was already gone.”
My chest heaved.
“Running.”
My hands trembled violently against the ropes.
“Free.”
My vision blurred through tears as he leaned closer.
“And years later…”
His voice dropped lower.
“You fell in love with him.”
My stomach twisted violently.
“You shared a bed with him.”
My heart felt like it was being torn apart.
“You gave your heart to the same man who took your father’s life.”
“STOP TALKING!” I screamed.
My voice cracked painfully as tears poured down my face.
“Please!”
My entire body shook now.
“Please stop!”
My head spun as the memories and the present collided violently in my mind.
Alexander standing there.
The boy I helped escape.
The man I loved.
The man who saved me.
The man who had just confessed—
“I’m sorry,” Alexander whispered again.
His voice was broken.
“I never wanted you to find out like this.”