My shoulders collapsed at the accusation in her words. The last thing I wanted was her to be mad at Juliette.

Pushing away from my desk and turning toward her, I gave her the highlights reel, failing to clue her in on what a lasting impact Colin’s mother had made on my life since we met.

At the end of my recap, Izzy covered her mouth, tears in her eyes. “Are you okay? I’m just . . . I’m so sorry.” She threw her arms over my shoulders and buried her face against my neck.

I held her, and something inside me broke. Wide fucking open.

“When I was tortured that time . . . I asked him to kill me.” I’d never spoken those words out loud, not out of agony, but out of shame. Not a soul knew, not even Hudson. “What happened to me then,” I went on, “pales in comparison to how I’m feeling now.”

Her chest shuddered against mine as she kept hold of me.

I pulled away from her but couldn’t meet her eyes. “It hurts. It hurts so fucking much,” was all I could get out before dropping to my knees, surrendering the way I had after that man broke me years ago and had me wishing for death.

“Oh, Constantine.” She fell with me, wrapping me up in her arms again.

“And when I saw a gun pointed at him tonight, I just . . .”

“I got you, it’s okay.” She cried the tears for me that I refused to let go. “I’m here for you.”

I kept quiet, trying like hell to pull it together. The reality of what happened at the warehouse had finally caught up with me. My son was mixed up with a gang, and he nearly died at the hands of the mafia.

“I’m a father.” Shock wrapped my words up, barely sending them from my mouth. “This has to be my punishment for everything I’ve done. They were kept away from me as a form of retribution.”

“What? No. Absolutely not.”

I sat back on my heels, and she scooched forward, erasing the distance I’d placed, taking hold of my face between her palms.

I wasn’t used to being weak or vulnerable, and now, two days in a row, I found myself on the floor in that exact way.

“You know the things I’ve done in my life,” I reminded her.

“You never hurt anyone innocent. That’s different.”

“Bianca would say judgment wasn’t mine to take.” Those would be her exact words. She’d hate what my brothers and I did to get justice for her.

“Maybe,” she breathed out. “She’d also forgive you.” She leaned in and rested her forehead against mine. “But you are not being punished. I refuse to believe that. And don’t you dare argue with me, you know how stubborn I am.”