If, one day, Maggie Westbrook could forgive me.
If one day she would come back into my arms.
I promise I will change, become good, and never kill again. Now, Samuel is the ruler of Harbor City, the owner of this casino.
He can reattach a severed finger and abandon old vows.
He can let his lover trample whole stacks of photographs.
But I cannot.
I want to build a blessed life for my child.
I want to bury these old wounds behind us.
Then I can take our child to a place without strife or betrayal and live out the rest of my days.
Samuel refused the divorce.
Not because he was unwilling to let her go.
But because his little girl called, suddenly saying she was afraid of the dark.
He dashed over, barely letting me finish a sentence.
That impatient bastard could not wait to send me a taunting video.
In the bright, spotless, floor-to-ceiling window light, Samuel was half-kneeling, washing her feet.
I knew this house.
When Samuel and I first came to Harbor City to make a living, we stood at the base of this building and looked up.
I had imagined standing by that window, sharing this view with my lover, and dying without regrets. Now Samuel could buy the whole building.