He buried his face in his trembling hands, heart pounding wildly. "She left… she left me again," he mumbled. "I came here to fight… I was ready to kneel every day if I had to—just for her to look at me. And now…"
Now she was gone.
Gone with his child.
Gone with his last piece of redemption.
His mother's voice echoed in his head—"Use the baby to win her back." But he didn't want strategy anymore. He wanted her. Just her. Rita. The woman whose strength had humbled him. The woman who had walked through fire and still managed to stand.
And now… she had walked away from him.
"Where did she go?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.
Mark hesitated again. "Sir, I don't know the exact place. Her people didn't share details. Just that she boarded a private flight before midnight."
