Chapter 174 Vittorio's Apology
Chapter 174 Vittorio's Apology
Back in the Romano’s household,
The moment Sofia pushed open the door, her father wheeled carefully behind her, his face pale but determined. Mrs Romano and Marco froze, surprise etching every line of their faces. It had been years since they had seen him, and now here he was.
Before anyone could speak, he lifted a trembling hand. “I… I need to apologize,” he said, his voice low but weighted with sincerity. His eyes, filled with regret, met Isabella’s first. “To you… and to your mother, Marco… for everything that happened. For leaving, for hiding… for all the pain.”
Isabella’s mother’s lips trembled, tears welling in her eyes, but she didn’t interrupt.
Isabella remained silent at first.
Vittorio continued, his voice barely above a whisper now, “I know I failed. I should have been there after what happened to my brother, after failing him. I should have protected you all. But I—” he swallowed, choking on the words, “I ran.”
Tears rolled down Isabella’s cheeks.
Mrs Romano, stepped forward slowly, embracing him, whispering brokenly, “We forgive you… we’ve waited for this moment.”
Marco, after a pause, nodded, his voice rough but warm. “It’s okay… we understand now. You did what you felt was right.”
Isabella finally took a tentative step forward, her hand reaching out to touch his. “Uncle…” she whispered, voice trembling. “We forgive you too.”
His eyes glistened with tears. “Thank you… thank you for letting me back into your lives. I know I don’t deserve it, but I promise from now on…” His voice broke, but his gaze was unwavering. “…I will be here. Always.”
Later in the afternoon,
Isabella and Sofia sat side by side on the couch.
Isabella’s hands were clasped tightly in her lap, her eyes distant, as she was replaying memories.
Sofia watched Isabella carefully, her gaze full of concern. After a pause, she finally spoke, her voice gentle but firm. “Isabella… why are you still waiting? You’ve been holding onto this… this weight for so long. You need to face him. Talk to Dante.”
Isabella flinched slightly, her hands tightening further. “I… I don’t know if I can,” she admitted softly, almost to herself.
Sofia reached over and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You can. You need to. Sitting here, waiting, hoping he’ll understand… it won’t fix anything. You owe it to yourself… to both of you, to clear the air. He deserves to hear your side, and you deserve to hear his.”
The words sank in slowly, settling deep within Isabella. She swallowed, feeling a rush of conflicting emotions, fear, guilt, love, and the remnants of heartbreak. The thought of seeing Dante, speaking to him, was terrifying… yet something inside her urged her to act, to stop hiding.
Finally, she nodded, almost imperceptibly. “You’re right,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I… I have to go. I can’t stay here anymore.”
Without waiting for a response, she excused herself, moving quickly but quietly toward the door. Sofia didn’t stop her, only watched with a soft, understanding smile, knowing that this was a step Isabella had to take on her own.
Isabella paused at the threshold for a moment, taking a deep breath, steadying herself, before leaving.
___
The room smelled of strong alcohol and burned wood from the barely used fireplace. Dante sat hunched over the low table, his glass half-empty and trembling slightly in his hand as he downed another shot. The sound of liquid slamming into glass echoed sharply, cutting through the silence.
Matteo leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, his jaw tight. “Dante… enough. You’re not thinking straight. This—this isn’t helping you.”
Dante’s eyes were bloodshot, burning with a mix of fury and despair. He glared at Matteo, unsteady yet defiant. “I am thinking straight. This… this keeps the thoughts in motion. Better than lying down and letting the world laugh at me.”
“You’re drowning yourself,” Matteo said softly, stepping closer. “One more drink and you’ll be useless to yourself.”
Dante slammed his glass down, spilling amber liquid across the table, ignoring Matteo’s words. “You don’t understand,” he muttered, voice rough, almost a growl. “Every piece of this… every betrayal… it’s relentless. Every corner I turn, there’s blood, lies, deception…”
Matteo crouched slightly, lowering his voice. “I do understand. But there’s still a path forward. There’s another file… the one with Sofia’s father. You’ve been distracted by everything else, but that one… it can tear De Luca down. All of it. One move, Dante, and we strike hard. Then we handle the rest.”
Dante froze mid-motion, glass hovering above the table. “Sofia’s father…” he repeated, voice low, almost reverent. “Why didn't you tell me?”
“I planned on sorting it out myself and don't act like I'm the only one keeping things to themselves.”
“That file… it’s safe with him?” Dante asked him ignoring what he said.
“Yes,” Matteo said firmly. “It’s hidden and secured. No one can touch it, and it contains everything you need to dismantle De Luca. But you can’t waste your strength drinking yourself into nothing. We need your mind clear for this.”
Dante stared at the table for a long moment, “Fine,” he said, voice low but sharp. “Get me everything I need from that file. We strike at De Luca, and after… we deal with the rest.”
Matteo nodded, relief mixing with caution. “I’ll make the arrangements. But promise me, Dante… stay focused. Don’t let this rage destroy you before we even move.”
Dante’s gaze hardened, almost icy. “I’m already broken, Matteo. Now I’m just… dangerous.”