Her Return: His Regret
Whispered, “I love you more than anything, piccolo. More than revenge. More than power. More than anything.”
A tear slipped free. Then another. She didn’t wipe them away. For the first time since she’d walked back into her father’s house, pregnant and broken, Destiny cried.
Not loud. Not dramatic. Just quiet, steady tears that soaked the collar of her blouse as she rested her forehead against the edge of the mattress. She cried for the girl who’d once believed love could survive anything.
She cried for the woman who’d turned that love into a weapon. She cried for the mother who was suddenly terrified that weapon might cut the wrong person.