Page 111 of His Son's Ex

Isabella steps closer, turning to Dante. “Linda never knew when to quit. It’s over for her.”

Dante allows himself a small smirk.

I turn my attention to Isabella. “Why are you here?”

“Because I knew you’d push Dante away after what you found out, after what you’ve been told. Because I couldn’t let you live in fear of the wrong man.” Her lips tighten. “I owe you the truth. All of it.”

I pull in a shaky breath. Every muscle in my body is sore, nerves still on high alert, adrenaline pumping as I prepare for what she’s about to tell me.

Dante keeps looking my way, as if he’s concerned I might bolt. I consider it for half a second, but I’m so tired, my body sore from trying to sleep on that awful cot and the scuffle with Gianni. I wouldn’t get far. Besides, something inside me admits that I don’t want to.

Isabella sighs before speaking. “Eva, dear,” she says quietly. “I know you’re frightened. You have every right to be.”

I swallow. My throat is dry, but I manage a whisper. “You don’t know anything about how I feel.”

She lifts a brow, unruffled. “Actually, I might.” Her gaze flicks to Dante, who’s hanging back a few yards, giving us space. “I’ve been watching this unfold. Dante told me to stay put, but I refused. These are wretched circumstances, but I wanted you to have some clarity before you made any final decisions.”

“Clarity on what?”

She hesitates and glances at Dante before continuing. “Eva, it’s time you heard the truth. Your father died on my orders, not Dante’s.”

The blunt statement sends a jolt through me. “You?”

She nods, expression grim. “Dante called off the hit, but I went behind his back. I was so blinded by grief—I’d just lost my husband and my other two sons, and I wanted blood.” She exhales a shaky breath. “Dante never wanted Yuri dead. It was me. I let the rumor stand that Dante did it to keep our rivals from sensing weakness. That doesn’t excuse it, but it’s what happened.”

My heart aches with the revelation. I open my mouth, but no words come out. I risk a look at Dante, who meets my gaze with quiet resignation.

Isabella takes my hands in hers, an unexpected and warm gesture. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but I’m telling you, Dante tried to stop it. I overruled him, letting him shoulder the blame.”

I can’t breathe. My father’s murderer is standing in front of me, holding my hands, confessing. Not Linda, not Dante—Isabella.

“I regret it every day. If I could go back and undo it, I would. I know that doesn’t bring Yuri back, but I swear, I will spend the rest of my life earning your forgiveness, if you’ll let me.”

Tears burn my eyes. I yank my hands free, not out of malice but because it’s too much to process. The raw agony of losing my dad, the illusions I clung to about Dante’s guilt, the reality that Isabella orchestrated it all… it’s dizzying.

“Eva,” she says quietly, “Dante was never responsible for your father’s death.”

I press my lips together and nod, tears blurring my vision. Dante’s innocence doesn’t erase the pain. My father is still gone, and the Bellacinos are still behind it.

I try to steady my breathing, forcing words past the lump in my throat. “I need time,” I manage, my voice shaky. “I can’t… I can’t deal with all this right now.”

Isabella nods in understanding, sorrow shading her eyes. “Of course.”

Dante steps closer, quietly dismissing the remaining guards with a glance. They move out, giving us space. Footsteps echo across the hard floor, leaving a strange emptiness in their absence.

Linda’s gone. Gianni’s dead.

Dante’s eyes search my face. “Eva…” He lifts a hand near my cheek but doesn’t make contact.

I look away. “I need to get out of here. I need space.”

“I’ll take you somewhere safe.”

Isabella speaks up, soft but insistent. “That would be best. The city isn’t secure right now, and some of Linda’s men could still be lurking. The Lombardis also have an interest in finishing what Linda started.”

My heartbeat kicks up. I remember Linda’s hateful sneer, the way she wanted me dead so badly. My breath hitches at the memory, and I realize I’m ready to collapse from sheer emotional overload. “Fine,” I say, forcing the word out. “Let’s go.”

I don’t spare Isabella another glance. I wait as Dante nods to his men. Within a few minutes, we’re out of the building and slipping into one of Dante’s SUVs. As we drive away, I rest my head on the seat, eyes closed, ignoring the man beside me.

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