Chapter 12
Serena's POV
Six months into our marriage, Dominic's name resurfaced in the news.
ASHFORD HEIR SELLS FAMILY BUSINESS. STEPS DOWN FROM ALL POSITIONS.
I read the headline over my morning coffee, surprised but not shocked.
Marcus had kept in touch — loosely, respectfully, through the occasional email. He'd mentioned Dominic had been struggling. Drinking more. Working less. Pushing away everyone who tried to help.
"The guilt's eating him alive," Marcus had written two months ago. "He knows what he lost. And he knows he's the only one to blame."
I'd read that email, felt a distant pang of sadness, and moved on.
But now — selling the family business? That was drastic. The Ashfords had built their empire over three generations. For Dominic to walk away meant he'd truly given up.
"You're frowning," Dante observed from across the breakfast table.
I turned my phone to show him the headline.
He read it, expression neutral. "Does this concern you?"
"Not the way you're thinking," I said. "I'm not worried about him. I just—" I paused, choosing my words. "It's strange to watch someone self-destruct over choices they made. Especially when those choices hurt me first."
Dante set down his espresso. "Do you want to reach out to him?"
No jealousy. No possessiveness. Just a simple question, asked with trust.
"No," I said. "But I think I've finally stopped being angry."
He studied me. "That's good."
"Is it?"
"Anger takes energy," he said. "Energy better spent elsewhere." His eyes warmed. "On us. On the life we're building."
I smiled. "You're right."
...
That afternoon, while reviewing operations at our casino, a familiar face walked through the door.
Marcus.
He looked tired but cleaner than the last time I'd seen him — less haunted. He approached the front desk, and when they redirected him to me, his relief was visible.
"Serena." He extended his hand. "Thank you for seeing me."
I shook it professionally. "Marcus. What brings you to Rome?"
"I'm here on behalf of... well, myself, really." He rubbed the back of his neck. "And partly because Dominic asked me to deliver something."
He set a small envelope on my desk.
I didn't open it. "What is it?"
"A letter." Marcus held up his hands. "I didn't read it. He just asked me to bring it, and I owed him that much."
I stared at the envelope. Crisp white. My name in Dominic's handwriting.
"He's not trying to win you back," Marcus added quickly. "He knows that's impossible. He just... wanted to say something. And he didn't trust himself to say it in person."
I nodded slowly. "Thank you for bringing it."
Marcus hesitated. "For what it's worth — I think what you have with Dante is real. I'm glad you found someone who sees you."
"Thank you, Marcus."
After he left, I sat with the envelope for a long time.
Finally, I opened it.
*Serena,*
*I don't deserve to write to you. I know that. But I need you to know three things, and then I'll disappear from your life for good.*
*One — I'm sorry. Not the kind of sorry that expects forgiveness. The kind that keeps me awake at night because I know I destroyed the best thing I ever had.*
*Two — Vivienne played me, but I let her. I chose comfort over courage. I chose the easier path over the right one. Every time I should have fought for you, I didn't.*
*Three — watching you marry Dante was the worst moment of my life. But also the moment I finally understood what love actually looks like. It looks like the way he looked at you. And it looks nothing like the way I treated you.*
*I'm leaving the city. Selling everything. Starting over somewhere I can't hurt anyone else.*
*Be happy, Serena. You deserve everything I couldn't give you.*
*— Dominic*
I folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope.
I didn't cry. I didn't feel vindicated. I just felt... done.
The chapter was closed. Finally, completely closed.
I slid the envelope into my desk drawer, stood, and walked back to my life — the one I'd chosen. The one I'd built. The one that was mine.
Six months into our marriage, Dominic's name resurfaced in the news.
ASHFORD HEIR SELLS FAMILY BUSINESS. STEPS DOWN FROM ALL POSITIONS.
I read the headline over my morning coffee, surprised but not shocked.
Marcus had kept in touch — loosely, respectfully, through the occasional email. He'd mentioned Dominic had been struggling. Drinking more. Working less. Pushing away everyone who tried to help.
"The guilt's eating him alive," Marcus had written two months ago. "He knows what he lost. And he knows he's the only one to blame."
I'd read that email, felt a distant pang of sadness, and moved on.
But now — selling the family business? That was drastic. The Ashfords had built their empire over three generations. For Dominic to walk away meant he'd truly given up.
"You're frowning," Dante observed from across the breakfast table.
I turned my phone to show him the headline.
He read it, expression neutral. "Does this concern you?"
"Not the way you're thinking," I said. "I'm not worried about him. I just—" I paused, choosing my words. "It's strange to watch someone self-destruct over choices they made. Especially when those choices hurt me first."
Dante set down his espresso. "Do you want to reach out to him?"
No jealousy. No possessiveness. Just a simple question, asked with trust.
"No," I said. "But I think I've finally stopped being angry."
He studied me. "That's good."
"Is it?"
"Anger takes energy," he said. "Energy better spent elsewhere." His eyes warmed. "On us. On the life we're building."
I smiled. "You're right."
...
That afternoon, while reviewing operations at our casino, a familiar face walked through the door.
Marcus.
He looked tired but cleaner than the last time I'd seen him — less haunted. He approached the front desk, and when they redirected him to me, his relief was visible.
"Serena." He extended his hand. "Thank you for seeing me."
I shook it professionally. "Marcus. What brings you to Rome?"
"I'm here on behalf of... well, myself, really." He rubbed the back of his neck. "And partly because Dominic asked me to deliver something."
He set a small envelope on my desk.
I didn't open it. "What is it?"
"A letter." Marcus held up his hands. "I didn't read it. He just asked me to bring it, and I owed him that much."
I stared at the envelope. Crisp white. My name in Dominic's handwriting.
"He's not trying to win you back," Marcus added quickly. "He knows that's impossible. He just... wanted to say something. And he didn't trust himself to say it in person."
I nodded slowly. "Thank you for bringing it."
Marcus hesitated. "For what it's worth — I think what you have with Dante is real. I'm glad you found someone who sees you."
"Thank you, Marcus."
After he left, I sat with the envelope for a long time.
Finally, I opened it.
*Serena,*
*I don't deserve to write to you. I know that. But I need you to know three things, and then I'll disappear from your life for good.*
*One — I'm sorry. Not the kind of sorry that expects forgiveness. The kind that keeps me awake at night because I know I destroyed the best thing I ever had.*
*Two — Vivienne played me, but I let her. I chose comfort over courage. I chose the easier path over the right one. Every time I should have fought for you, I didn't.*
*Three — watching you marry Dante was the worst moment of my life. But also the moment I finally understood what love actually looks like. It looks like the way he looked at you. And it looks nothing like the way I treated you.*
*I'm leaving the city. Selling everything. Starting over somewhere I can't hurt anyone else.*
*Be happy, Serena. You deserve everything I couldn't give you.*
*— Dominic*
I folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope.
I didn't cry. I didn't feel vindicated. I just felt... done.
The chapter was closed. Finally, completely closed.
I slid the envelope into my desk drawer, stood, and walked back to my life — the one I'd chosen. The one I'd built. The one that was mine.