Chapter 25 Nina
NINA
My heart slams against my ribs at the violent pounding on my door.
At eleven p.m., nobody knocks like that unless they’re bringing trouble.
I grab the baseball bat from beside my bed. Eric left me more than just trust issues when he disappeared. I creep toward the door with the bat in hand.
Through the peephole, I see Alessio swaying, his hair a mess, eyes bloodshot.
What the hell?
I set the bat against the wall and open the door. “Did you drive here like this?”
He barrels past me into the apartment, bringing the sharp scent of expensive scotch with him. “Where’s Austin? Keshia?”
“Keep your voice down.” I shut the door softly. “Austin’s exhausted and sleeping. And Keshia’s out.”
She’d almost canceled her date after Austin’s scare, but I’d practically shoved her out the door. One of us deserves a normal night.
“Good.” His hand drags through his hair, leaving it sticking up wild, eyes darting around like he’s hunting for something. Then he fixes on me. “I know, Nina. I know Austin is mine.”
I feel like I’ve been caught naked in a spotlight.
My secret. The one that’s been consuming me. It’s out. He knows.
I sink onto the arm of the couch, my legs suddenly unsteady. “You know...”
He takes a step closer, and I can see the desperation in his eyes, the need for confirmation even though he claims to know. “Are you going to deny it?”
I could lie. Should lie. It would be so easy to tell him that he’s seeing things, that he’s lost his mind. I’ve been carrying this secret for six years. What’s a few more?
But Austin was in the hospital today, and I’m bone-deep exhausted from pretending. From being the only one of his parents who knows, the only one who carries the truth of what really happened that night. The secret has been eating me alive, and I don’t have the energy to feed it anymore.
“No.” The word scrapes out of me like a confession. “I’m not denying anything.”
He lets out a long exhale. “I did a DNA test.”
And there goes my moment of relief.
“A DNA test? How?” I push off the couch, anger sparking through my exhaustion. “When did you have access to his DNA?”
“That’s not what matters right now.” His jaw tightens.
“Not what matters?” Fury spikes so fast I see red. “You violated my son’s privacy. You took something from him without permission, without even telling me.” I’m pacing now. “Tell me how the hell you got his DNA, Alessio.”
He has the grace to look uncomfortable. “Does it matter how—”
“It matters that you went behind my back. It matters that you made this choice for all of us without asking.” I stop pacing and face him. “What gave you the right?”
“You lied to me.” His voice hardens. “You told me he was your ex-husband’s.”
Heat floods my cheeks. “And you told me you didn’t remember me at all. Guess we’re both liars.”
The words hang between us like a challenge.
I should throw him out right now. But I can’t. Because he’s not wrong.
He moves toward me, and I sidestep him, heading for the kitchen. If we’re doing this, I’m doing it on my terms.
“Sit.” I point at one of the kitchen chairs. “You want to have this conversation? Fine. But you’re going to sober up first.”
“I’m not that drunk.”
“Sit down, Alessio.”
Something in my tone must cut through his scotch haze because he actually listens, dropping into the chair like his strings have been cut. I fill a glass with water and set it in front of him, then lean against the counter, putting the width of the kitchen between us.
“Drink that. Then we’ll talk about how you secretly tested my son without permission.”
“Our son.” He takes a long drink of water.
Hearing Alessio claim Austin feels terrifying and inevitable all at once.
He sets the glass down carefully. “And you kept him from me for six years.”
“I didn’t even know your last name until two weeks ago. What was I supposed to do, put out a Craigslist ad? ‘Looking for the guy who saved me from thugs and knocked me up. Answers to Alessio, has amber eyes and a pierced cock.’”
Despite everything, his mouth twitches toward a smile. “Accurate ad, at least.”
“Focus.” But I feel my own anger softening at the edges. “You want to know why I didn’t tell you when I found out you were my boss? Because you were being an asshole. You pretended not to know me, treated me like I was nothing, and made it crystal clear you wanted nothing to do with me.”
He runs his hand through his hair again. “Because I wanted you too much. And that’s not something I know how to handle.”
I blink, caught off guard by his honesty. “You could have just talked to me instead of making me feel like garbage.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
We stare at each other across my kitchen, and I feel the weight of all the things we’re not saying. The fear. The want. The overwhelming reality that we share a child and have no idea what to do about it.
“I want to be his father,” he says finally, his voice steady now. Determined. “I’m all in, Nina. That’s my kid, and I’m going to be there for him.”
“Those are pretty words.” I stare him down.
“But being a dad is more than showing up with declarations. It’s homework help and nightmare duty and sitting in emergency rooms for hours.
It’s explaining why you can’t have ice cream for breakfast and why we have to brush teeth even when we’re tired. Can you do that?”
He stands, moving toward me with the kind of intent that makes my pulse jump. I hold my ground as he stops just close enough that I have to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact.
“I don’t know how to be a dad,” he admits, his voice rough. “Hell, I barely know how to be a decent human being. But I know how to learn. I know how to fight for what matters. And you two? You matter.”
The words hit somewhere deep, somewhere I’ve kept locked since Eric taught me that pretty words are just another kind of weapon. But there’s something in Alessio’s eyes that Eric never had.
Fear.
Real, genuine fear that I might say no.
I take a breath. “If you’re serious about this, we do it my way,” I tell him. “You don’t get to barge in and make demands. You want to be Austin’s father? You earn it.”
He shifts his weight, “Fair enough. What are your terms?”
“We start slow. You meet him properly first. Get to know each other before we tell him anything.”
“How long—”
“I’ll know when he’s ready.” I cross my arms. “And you prove Austin comes first. Not your business, not your ego, not your need to control everything. Him.”
He leans against the counter, mirroring my stance. “What else?”
“We need to talk about your... business situation.”
His jaw tightens at that last part. “About that—”
“Let me finish.” I cut him off. “I saw those bikers at the club. The girls talk, Alessio. I’m not stupid. I know what you are.”
He goes very still, studying my face like he’s trying to read whether I’m about to bolt. “And you’re...okay with that?”
“I’m okay with you.” The admission surprises us both. “But your world? The violence and the enemies and the constant danger? That stays away from Austin.”
“I can’t promise—”
“Then you can’t be his father.” I know it’s not entirely rational. Austin is already his son whether Alessio’s in his life or not. “I’ve kept him safe for six years without you. I’ll keep doing it with or without your help.”
He closes his eyes briefly, looking suddenly exhausted.
“The danger exists whether I’m in his life or not.
Now that I know he’s mine, I can’t pretend he doesn’t exist. Eventually someone will figure it out, and if my enemies find out about him.
..” He trails off, but the implication hangs heavy between us.
“I can protect you both better if I’m close. ”
The fear that shoots through me is instant and nauseating. “Are you telling me those bikers would hurt a six-year-old?”
“I’m telling you there’s not much these men won’t do.” He reaches for my hand, and I let him take it because I need something to anchor me. “But I won’t let anything happen to either of you. Trust me.”
The idea of those thugs even knowing Austin’s name makes me sick. “I won’t let your enemies make him a target.”
His thumb traces circles on my palm, the touch grounding me. “I know this is a lot to ask—”
“I don’t trust anyone.”
“I know. But I’m asking you to try. Just enough to let me protect you both.”
I should pull away. Should demand more specifics, more guarantees, more everything. But I’m tired of being the only one standing guard. Tired of carrying all of this alone.
“This doesn’t mean we’re together,” I say, needing to establish at least one boundary. “Whatever this thing is between us, it’s separate from you being Austin’s father.”
“Understood.” But the way he’s looking at me says he’s hoping for more.
“I mean it, Alessio. We figure out the parent thing first. The rest...” I trail off because I don’t know what the rest even is.
“We’ll figure it out as we go,” he says softly.
Before I can argue, he tugs me closer and kisses me. Not the desperate, hungry kisses we’ve shared before. This one is gentle, almost tender, like he’s trying to tell me something he doesn’t have words for.