Chapter 63

When I set my plan in motion, falling in love with her was never part of the equation. That realization hit me harder than any bullet ever could.

I thought it would be simple. Eliminate her, claim what was rightfully mine. But Sophia wasn’t just another target—she was a force of nature. The kind of woman who rewires your soul before you even realize it.

I tried resisting it. Like trying to outrun a hurricane. Futile.

By the time I admitted my feelings, the damage was irreversible. The truth would surface eventually, but instead of walking away, I clung to her like a drowning man to driftwood. Every second with her was borrowed time.

Hurting her is my greatest sin. Her pain became mine, our hearts breaking in tandem. I traded a future with her for greed, and if she never forgives me, I’d deserve it.

"Daniel, you’ve got a visitor," a guard barks.

I’ve refused my parents every visit. Shame coils in my gut like a live wire. They gave me their name, their love—and I repaid them by trying to murder their blood daughter.

Yet here they are. Again.

I almost tell the guard to send them away when something stops me. A reckless, desperate hope.

The cuffs bite into my wrists as I’m led out.

New inmates usually get tested. Not me. My reputation precedes me.

Then I see her.

Sophia sits in the far corner, hands twisting in her lap. My pulse roars in my ears.

The guard uncuffs me.

"Sophia?" My voice cracks as I sit.

I memorize her face—the curve of her lips, the gold flecks in her brown eyes. This is goodbye. Closure before she moves on.

She can’t even look at me for long. The sight of me hurts her. And God, it destroys me.

No future. No wedding. No watching her belly swell with my child.

The loss carves me hollow.

"I almost didn’t come," she whispers. "But I had to."

Her uncertainty guts me. I did this. Broke the woman who once looked at me like I hung the stars.

"What is it, Sophia?" I soften my voice, fighting the urge to reach for her.

She inhales sharply. "I—"

The words stick. My chest tightens. What’s wrong?

"Sophia—"

"I’m pregnant."

The world tilts.

Three months. Our last night together flashes behind my eyelids—her skin against mine, the way she gasped my name.

Then cold reality slams in.

"You’re here to tell me you’re terminating it." My jaw locks.

Her head snaps up, fury igniting her eyes. The old Sophia—the fighter—surfaces. "How dare you? At first, I considered it. But this baby deserves life."

Relief nearly buckles me.

"I came to ask if you want to be involved," she continues. "Or if you’d rather walk away."

The answer tears from me: "No."

Better my child never knows a monster.

She stands abruptly. I brace for the finality of her footsteps.

Then she sits back down.

"Why?" she demands. "Because I was just a pawn?"

"What can I offer from prison? By the time I’m out, they’ll be grown. I’ll miss everything. And no kid should have a father who hurt their mother like I did you."

Silence stretches.

Then—

"This baby will know you," she says fiercely. "Visits. Letters. You won’t miss a single milestone if you choose not to."

Stunned, I stare. How is she this merciful?

"Thank you," I rasp.

She slides a sonogram across the table. My throat closes. A tiny bean-shaped blur. Mine. Ours.

"I care about you," I blurt as she stands.

She freezes.

"I love you, Sophia. Deeply. Irrevocably."

A tear slips down her cheek. "It’s too late."

"I know. But it doesn’t change the truth."

"I imagined a future with you," she whispers. "It was so real. I was ready to love you—fully. Then you burned it all down."

I surge to my feet, agony shredding me. She’d begun to love me too.

The knowledge is a knife to the ribs.

"Will you ever forgive me?"

"Maybe. Not today."

I kiss her then. Desperate. Devouring. Our last.

When she pulls away, I let her go.

Some losses are permanent.