Page 236 of My Husband’s New Fiancée

A gray, impersonal place where everyone comes searching for something: news, affection, sometimes just proof that there’s still someone waiting for them on the outside.

I’m sitting at a metal table, my hands clasped in front of me.

The back door opens.

Bianca walks in, flanked by two guards. Handcuffed, hair pulled back, her features harsher than they once were.

She’s almost completely regained her figure. She gave birth a month ago. The baby was taken in by her sister and brother-in-law.

She spots me immediately, and a smile brushes her lips.

The same smile she used to wear whenever she thought she could regain control.

She probably thinks my being here means something.

She sits down across from me.

“Dante—”

“Don’t say my name.”

The smile barely falters.

The guards step back a few paces.

Far enough to let us talk.

Not far enough to let us forget where we are.

Bianca tilts her head slightly.

“You still came to see me. I suppose that already answers something.”

I look at her without emotion.

“I came to tell you a few things. Once. After this, I won’t come back.”

Around us, other conversations continue. A mother cries softly two tables away. A child laughs without understanding.

Life persists everywhere.

Even here.

“I heard you’re trying to negotiate a reduced sentence with the prosecution,” I say.

She doesn’t answer.

“You should know that I’ll personally testify to everything I know, everything I saw, everything you did to us. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure the court fully understands the severity of your actions.”

Her gaze hardens.

“You came here to threaten a pregnant woman in prison. That’s pathetic.”

“No. I came here to speak to someone who tried to kill my wife.”

This time, the hit lands.

Only for a second.