I stared at him, stunned, my voice barely a whisper.
"And do you know that I haven't slept a full night in six months? Why else do you think I collapsed on that operating table?"
A flicker of guilt crossed Marco's eyes, but it was instantly swallowed by an even greater fury. He tightened his grip.
"It's just a pregnancy, and you've done nothing but cause trouble! If you hadn't insisted on skipping the family dinner, I would have been there to protect Sofia!"
"This is all your fault!"
My back slammed painfully against the wall, and I finally understood. In his mind, everything was my fault.
In his eyes, I owed Sofia.
But I am his wife, carrying the sole heir of the Falcone family.
Yet he'd leave me defenseless in a heartbeat to go play the hero for Sofia.
A laugh escaped my lips.
In Marco’s eyes, that smile was a direct challenge to his authority.
He gripped my chin, his face contorting with disgust as he leaned in. "Sofia almost died for this family, and you can still laugh. Isabella, your malice makes me sick."
"Isabella, don't forget whose name you carry," he enunciated. "Don't make me remind you how this family deals with disobedience."
With that, Marco slammed the door and was gone.
I slid down the cold wall to the floor.
Fine. Soon, I would show him what real heartbreak felt like.
