Chapter 8 - THE NIGHT VINCENT LOST CONTROL
I stepped back.
“You knew.”
Vincent closed his eyes.
“Nora—”
“You knew who I was.”
My voice broke.
He nodded.
“Yes.”
I stared.
The restaurant.
The hand.
The fake marriage.
The fear.
“Was any of it real?”
Vincent looked at me.
“The danger was real.”
I laughed bitterly.
“That wasn't my question.”
He swallowed.
“I knew your name because of Ethan.”
I stared.
He continued.
“I had been investigating him.”
My stomach tightened.
“And you just happened to sit at my table?”
Vincent looked down.
“No.”
For a moment, the room seemed to tilt.
I whispered:
“You used me.”
Vincent's face tightened.
He didn't deny it.
“I was trying to find Luca,” he said.
I shook my head.
“And I was useful.”
Vincent looked at me.
“Yes.”
The honesty hurt more than a lie.
I stepped away.
“Get out.”
Vincent froze.
“Nora—”
“Get out.”
He nodded.
Then left.
That night, I packed my bags.
Claire came to collect me.
Vincent stood in the hallway as we walked past.
He didn't stop us.
I looked at him.
“You don't get to call me your wife anymore.”
His expression broke.
“I know.”
May you like
I walked away.
And for the first time since the restaurant, Vincent Romano looked like a man who had lost something he couldn't replace.
