The Mafia Princess’s New Groom Chapter 07
“I’m sorry. I know what I did.”
Vincent’s voice cracked between sobs.
“I lost my head. She was soft and sweet and I just… I got carried away. That’s all it was. It didn’t mean anything.”
He looked up at me, blood and tears streaking his face, still trying to find the version of me that used to melt when he begged.
“Isabella, you’ve always been in my heart. Always. Even when I was with her, it was you I was thinking about. I miss what we had, the way things used to be, before everything got so complicated.”
His voice shifted.
Even now, on his knees, bleeding, he couldn’t help himself.
“But you pushed me away. You know that, right? You got so controlling. Always bossing me around. Always telling me what to do, who to see, how to run things. I couldn’t breathe. A man needs room, Isabella. I just wanted you to ease up a little. That’s all it was. That’s the only reason any of this happened.”
Even with a knife at his ankle and his men on their knees.
He was still finding a way to make this my fault.
I smiled.
Something cold and sharp uncurled inside me.
Not anger.
Something worse. Something patient.
“You know me, Vincent.”
I said it softly.
Almost gently.
The way you’d talk to someone who was already dead and just didn’t know it yet.
“When something of mine gets dirty, I don’t scrub it clean. I don’t try to fix it. I throw it away.”
I let that hang in the air.
Let it settle over him like a sheet over a corpse.
“So here’s how this is going to work.”
I crouched down until we were eye to eye.
Close enough to see his sweat.
His broken blood vessels.
The fear behind his eyes.
“You’ve got something rotten in you, Vincent. Something that doesn’t belong. So you’ve got two choices.”
I held up one finger.
“Cut off the rotten piece yourself.”
A second finger.
“Or cut out the person who made it rotten.”
My gaze drifted across the room. Slow. Deliberate. Until it landed on Sophia.
Every drop of color drained from her face.
Her mouth fell open, but nothing came out.
For one frozen second, the whole room watched the exact moment she understood what was about to happen.
Vincent’s eyes darted between me and Sophia.
His mouth opened, but the words died in his throat.
He knew what I was capable of.
I pressed a knife into Vincent’s hand.
His fingers closed around the handle on instinct, but his whole arm was shaking.
“Go on, Vincent. Show me who you choose.”
Then Sophia broke.
She threw herself across the marble floor, scrambling toward Vincent on her hands and knees, her wedding gown dragging through the blood, mascara running in black rivers down her cheeks.
She grabbed onto his arm like a drowning woman clutching at driftwood.
Her voice tore through the hall, high and ragged and raw.
“Vince, NO…NO! Please, Vince, you can’t! I’m pregnant! I’m carrying your baby!”