Chapter 15
Matteo did not shout when Vivienne arrived.
That made it worse.
He sat in the drawing room and looked at the woman he had once married.
“You got old.”
Vivienne stared at him.
“So did you.”
“Yes.”
He smiled faintly.
“Living does that.”
She hated the sentence.
Elena remained beside me. Tristan stood near the doorway. Victor stayed farther back.
No children.
This room belonged to adults and their consequences.
Matteo asked one question.
“Why Nico?”
Vivienne looked at me.
“Because Cassian needed an heir protected from scandal.”
“No.”
Matteo shook his head.
“Why Nico?”
Her jaw tightened.
Then the truth finally surfaced.
Because a son mattered to old Morelli captains.
More than a daughter.
Vivienne believed Isla, born first, would bind me too closely to Elena. Nico could be separated, raised within Morelli values, then introduced later as a legitimate male successor when I was ready.
I stared at her.
“You planned my son’s entire life without me.”
“Yes.”
“You planned my daughter out of succession.”
“Yes.”
Elena went completely still.
Vivienne turned toward her.
“You would have made them soft.”
Elena’s voice stayed calm.
“They are three.”
“So?”
There it was again.
The belief that cruelty needs to begin early because power might be required later.
Matteo closed his eyes.
“I married you because I thought you were strong.”
Vivienne looked at him.
“You were.”
Past tense.
She heard it.
“What changed?”
He looked at Tristan.
Then me.
Then Victor.
“Strength protects choice.”
He met her eyes.
“You only protected control.”
That landed.
Vivienne looked around the room and finally seemed to understand something I had been seeing all night.
Nobody was asking her what the family needed anymore.
The question had moved on without her.
Later, I sat outside with Elena.
No speeches.
No grand promises.
The twins were sleeping inside.
Isla curled near Nico like they had done it every night of their lives.
Elena looked through the window.
“They fit.”
“Yes.”
“I hate that.”
I looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because it shows how much time they should have had.”
I understood.
I wanted to say we could make up for it.
We couldn’t.
Time is not debt.
You cannot repay it.
So I said the only honest thing.
“We can stop losing more.”
Elena looked at me.
Then slowly took my hand.
Not reunion.
Not forgiveness.
May you like
Choice.
That was enough.
