Chapter 23: A Mother's Resolve

The house was unusually quiet that night. The faint hum of the city below and the soft tick of the clock on the wall were the only sounds that filled the empty spaces. Antonio sat at his desk, a glass of whiskey in his hand, his thoughts clouded with the weight of the day’s events. He had apologized to Luca, had tried to calm his son’s troubled mind, but the ache in his chest remained. The guilt gnawed at him. He had hurt Isabella, and in doing so, he had hurt his son.

He could hear Luca’s soft breathing from the other side of the house. The boy had always been a light sleeper, always moving close to his father, needing the comfort and warmth of the man who had been his only constant in this cold world. But tonight, something was different. Luca hadn’t come to his room as he always did after the sun set. Tonight, the child had found another source of comfort.

Antonio’s thoughts lingered on that for a moment. He had tried to keep Luca from forming any attachment to Isabella. She was supposed to be a figure in their home, nothing more. A part of the arrangement. But the more time she spent with Luca, the more he realized she was becoming a part of his son’s world in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

The soft sound of footsteps brought Antonio’s attention back to the present. He set his glass down, the harsh clink of the crystal against the wooden desk echoing in the silence. The door to his office opened slowly, and Isabella stepped in.

Her eyes were tired, the weight of the day clear on her face. But there was something else, something that Antonio couldn’t quite place. A kind of determination. A quiet strength that had been growing in her ever since he had forced her into this life.

“I checked on Luca,” she said, her voice soft, but steady. “He’s fast asleep.”

Antonio nodded, his gaze lingering on her. “He’s not in his room?”

Isabella shook her head. “No. He came into mine. Called me ‘Mommy’ in his sleep.”

The words were like a blow to the chest. Antonio wasn’t sure how to react. His son had called Isabella "mommy"—something he had never once said to Valentina. The word felt foreign, out of place. Yet, it was also innocent, a slip of the tongue in the mind of a child who just wanted to feel safe and loved. And in that moment, Antonio realized that he had never given Luca that same sense of safety. Not like Isabella had.

She had been kind to his son, even when he didn’t deserve it. She had tried to be a mother to him, despite everything, despite being forced into a marriage that she had no choice in. But that single word from Luca had opened Antonio’s eyes to the harsh reality. Isabella wasn’t just a wife to him; she was becoming the mother Luca needed.

Isabella seemed lost in thought for a moment, her eyes distant. She had always been quiet, observant, but now there was a softness to her that Antonio had never seen before. It made him feel… uneasy. He wasn’t used to softness. He wasn’t used to feeling anything but power, control, and dominance. Yet, this woman—this force of nature who had come into his life and turned it upside down—had an impact on him that he wasn’t prepared for.

“I never wanted Luca to go through this,” Isabella continued, her voice low. “He’s just a child. He deserves a life filled with love, not fear. I know what kind of world we live in, Antonio. I know what you’re capable of. But Luca…” She paused, shaking her head. “He’s innocent. And I can’t bear to see him grow up thinking this is how love is supposed to be.”

Antonio didn’t respond right away. The weight of her words hung in the air like a thick fog. She was right, of course. Luca deserved better. He deserved to grow up in a world where love wasn’t twisted, manipulated, or broken. But what Isabella didn’t understand was that Antonio didn’t know how to give that kind of love. Not after everything he had been through.

He rose from his desk slowly, moving toward her with a quiet intensity. “You think you’re the only one who wants better for Luca?” he asked, his voice low, almost a growl. “You think I don’t want my son to be happy? To live a life where he can trust people? Where he can feel safe?”

Isabella met his gaze, her eyes hard, but there was something in them—something that Antonio couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t anger, nor fear. It was resolve.

“You don’t have to force love, Antonio,” she said softly. “Love is something that comes naturally. You don’t have to make him love you. You don’t have to make me love you. You just have to let it happen.”

Antonio clenched his jaw, his fists at his sides. She was right. And it angered him. He had spent so many years building a fortress around himself, making sure no one could get in, that he had forgotten how to let anyone close. He had forgotten what it meant to truly care.

“I’m not like you, Isabella,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I don’t know how to love like you do. I’ve lost that part of me. I can’t be the man you want me to be. And I’m not sure I can ever be that man.”

She reached out, her hand lightly touching his arm. The warmth of her touch sent a shock through him, making him flinch involuntarily. But then, he felt her gentle pressure, a comforting presence that he hadn’t known he needed.

“I don’t expect you to be perfect, Antonio,” she said quietly. “I just want you to try. For Luca. For yourself.”

The words settled in his chest, like a weight he had been carrying for far too long. He wasn’t perfect. He never had been. But maybe, just maybe, he could try. For Luca. For the boy who had no idea what kind of world he was born into. For the woman who had become more than just his wife—she had become a part of his life in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

Antonio stood there for a long moment, his body tense, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. But in the end, he knew one thing for sure: he couldn’t let this continue. He couldn’t keep pretending that the world he had created was the only way.

“I’ll try,” he said finally, his voice soft. “I’ll try, Isabella. For Luca. I’ll try.”

Her expression softened, a small but sincere smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “That’s all I ask.”

The moment lingered between them, heavy and uncertain. Antonio wasn’t sure if he could truly change. He wasn’t sure if he could ever be the kind of man Isabella deserved. But he knew one thing—he would try. For Luca. For himself. For the family he never thought he could have.

When Antonio returned to his room that night, he couldn’t help but think about Isabella’s words. The softness in her eyes, the way she had cared for Luca, and the way she had shown him a glimpse of a life he had long since abandoned.

But as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts kept returning to the one thing that troubled him the most.

Luca.

His son had called Isabella "mommy." It wasn’t the first time the boy had called someone “mommy,” but it was the first time it had been someone other than Valentina. And Antonio knew that, whether he wanted to admit it or not, Isabella was becoming a mother to Luca in ways that no one could replace.

And that scared him.

But maybe, just maybe, it was time for Antonio to accept that fear. Because the more he fought it, the more he risked losing everything.