"You don't understand?—"
"I understand perfectly." My voice is cold. Hard. "You lost your wife. It destroyed you. And instead of fighting through it, instead of being there for the three children who also lost their mother, you crawled into a bottle and a casino and left them to fend for themselves."
Eraldo's face crumples.
"I know?—"
"You don't know anything." I'm shaking now. With rage. With something else I can't name. "You want to talk about pain? About loss? Your daughter sacrificed herself for you. She married a stranger to pay your debts. She walked down that aisle knowing nothing about me except that I was a Sartori and her family needed saving. And she did it anyway. Because someone had to. Because you couldn't."
Eraldo is sobbing now. Ugly, broken sounds.
"You didn't try to be a good father," I say again. "You didn't try at all. You just... stopped. And your children paid the price."
The room falls silent except for Eraldo's sobs.
I watch him. This broken man. This shell of a father who let his grief swallow him whole while his children drowned.
Part of me wants to hate him.
Part of me understands him too well.
"Do you know what would have happened if Antonella hadn't agreed to marry me?"
Eraldo doesn't answer. Can't answer. He's too far gone in his own misery.
"You would be dead." I let the words hang in the air. "The Morellis wanted blood. Two million dollars worth of blood. And when we bought your debt from them, we could have collected the same way. Should have, according to some."
Eraldo's sobs quiet. He's listening now.
"But we didn't." I wheel closer. "Do you know why?"
He shakes his head.
"Because our father admired yours. Years ago, before everything went to shit, Giuseppe Sartori considered Eraldo Romano a man of honour. A man worth respecting." I pause. "We offered the marriage arrangement because we wanted to honour that memory. To give your family a chance to rebuild instead of burying you in an unmarked grave."
Eraldo's hands cover his face.
"Antonella saved your life," I continue. "She walked into a marriage with a stranger because she believed it would save you. Save Gianna. Save Claudio. She sacrificed everything she had left to give you one more chance."
"I know." The words are muffled. Broken. "I know what she did."
"Do you?" I lean forward. "Do you really understand what your daughter gave up?"
Eraldo drops his hands. His face is a mess of tears and snot. He looks like a man who's been hollowed out from the inside.
"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm so sorry."
"Sorry doesn't mean anything." My voice is flat. "Sorry doesn't erase the forty thousand dollars you borrowed in New York. Sorry doesn't undo the fact that you used your daughter's connection to my family to secure credit at underground games. Sorry doesn't change that you abandoned your security detail and disappeared for hours."
Eraldo flinches at each word. Like I'm hitting him.
Good.
"Your children don't know yet." I watch his face carefully. "Gianna and Claudio have no idea you screwed up again. They think you're busy working. They think you're finally getting your life together."
Hope flickers in Eraldo's eyes. Pathetic, desperate hope.
"And Antonella..." I stop. Breathe. "Antonella doesn't know either. She suspects something is wrong. She's too smart not to.But she doesn't know the details. Doesn't know that her father started gambling again the moment he was out of her sight."