Chapter 33 Nina
NINA
“Okay, but seriously.” I gesture toward the sleek black gaming console sitting beneath the massive TV. “How much did that thing cost?”
Alessio doesn’t even have the decency to look guilty. “Does it matter?”
“It matters when you’re spoiling my kid rotten.” But there’s no real heat in my voice. Austin looks like he just won the lottery, and I’d be lying if I said that didn’t hit me with a rush of happiness.
“Our kid,” Alessio corrects, settling beside me on the couch. “And he deserves to be spoiled a little.”
Our kid. Those words still catch me by surprise every time. Six years of being the only parent, and now suddenly there’s an “our” in the equation.
Austin’s already absorbed in whatever game he’s playing, tongue poking out in concentration as he figures out the controls. The afternoon light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows catches the amber flecks in his eyes—Alessio’s eyes—and for a moment I’m struck by how right this feels.
I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, but maybe that’s just old survival instincts.
I’ve spent so long expecting the worst that recognizing genuine good fortune feels foreign.
In the past couple of weeks living here, I’ve gotten more comfortable, more hopeful.
Started thinking of an actual future with him.
Austin deserves a mother who believes in happy endings.
“Did you register for classes today?” Alessio asks.
I can’t help smiling. “I start two weeks from Monday.”
Graphic design. Something I actually want to do instead of whatever pays the bills fastest. “I’m proud of you.” His hand finds mine, fingers intertwining. “You deserve to do something you actually want for once.”
“Thank you.” The words feel inadequate for everything he’s given us. “This wouldn’t be possible without you.”
He leans over and kisses me, soft and brief, but Austin still makes a disgusted noise from the floor.
“Gross. You guys do that too much.”
I laugh, the sound bubbling up before I can stop it. Alessio shoots Austin a mock-serious look.
“You’ll change your tune someday, kid.”
Austin wrinkles his nose like the very idea offends him. “Never.”
Alessio’s phone buzzes against the coffee table. He glances at the screen and his expression shifts slightly.
“Luca,” he explains. “Family meeting.”
I nod. After what happened to Joey, I know things have gotten more complicated for the Andrettis. More dangerous. Alessio doesn’t hide the broad strokes from me anymore, but he’s obviously careful about the details when Austin’s around.
“Go,” I tell him. “We’ll be fine.”
He kisses my cheek, then ruffles Austin’s hair. “Be good for your mom, kid.”
“I’m always good,” Austin protests without looking up from his game.
After Alessio leaves, I curl up next to Austin and watch him navigate some colorful world full of obstacles and coins. There’s something soothing about the repetitive music and his quiet concentration.
Twenty minutes later, he pauses the game and turns to me with that expectant look I know well.
“I’m hungry.”
I check the time. Dinner. Right.
“What sounds good?”
“Pizza!”
I consider our options. We could order delivery, stay safely tucked inside this fortress Alessio’s built around us. But Austin’s been cooped up for days, and I’m getting tired of living like we’re in witness protection.
There’s a pizza place directly across the street with a neon sign boasting “Vegas’s Best Pizza!” in cheerful red letters. Through the window, I can see our bodyguard’s car parked below.
It’s fifty feet. What could go wrong in fifty feet?
“Let’s see if that sign is telling the truth,” I decide.
Austin bounces off the couch. “Really? We can go outside?”
“Just across the street.” I grab my purse, making sure my phone’s inside. “But you stay glued to my side, understood?”
“Understood!”
The Nevada heat hits us like a wall when we step outside, even with the sun starting to set. I wave to our bodyguard and point toward the pizza place. He immediately gets out of his car, positioning himself to follow us across.
Good. That makes me feel better about this spontaneous decision.
The crosswalk signal chirps, and I take Austin’s hand. His palm is small and warm in mine.
“Remember, stay close—”
The screech of tires cuts me off.
A black van barrels through the intersection, ignoring the red light completely. For a split second, I think it’s going to hit us. My body tenses to throw Austin out of the way.
But the van isn’t trying to run us down. It’s stopping. Right in front of us.
Time fractures.
The side door slides open with a metallic shriek. A man in a ski mask jumps out, moving fast.
Every instinct I have screams danger.
He grabs my arm with bruising force, yanking me forward. Austin’s hand tears away from mine, his nails scraping my palm as he screams my name.
“Let go!” I shout, but the man just tightens his grip and shoves me toward the van’s gaping mouth.
My shin collides with the metal frame, pain shooting up my leg.
I hit the van’s floor hard, palms scraping against rough metal.
Before I can scramble back toward the door, Austin is thrown in after me.
He lands against me with a sob, fists clutching my shirt so tight the fabric twists between his fingers.
Someone outside shouts, “Stop!” Our bodyguard’s voice, closer than I expected. A scuffle follows, the heavy thud of bodies colliding. Then the door slams shut, cutting it all off.
For a moment, we’re both just breathing hard in the darkness. Austin’s little chest heaves against mine, hitching sobs breaking through the silence. The smell of motor oil and something sour fills the cramped space.
“Mom?” His voice is barely a whisper.
“I’m here, baby.” I wrap my arms around him, pulling him close. “I’m right here.”
The van lurches forward, and we slide across the metal floor until we hit the back wall. I brace myself against it and keep Austin tucked against me. The floor vibrates with the roar of the engine, each jolt slamming my spine into cold steel.
My mind races. Who would do this? Why? But underneath the fear, anger starts to build. We were supposed to be safe. Alessio promised we’d be safe.
“Mom?” Austin’s voice is small and shaky. “Are we going to be okay?”
The honest answer is I don’t know. But that’s not what he needs to hear right now.
“Your dad will find us,” I whisper, surprised by how much I believe it. “He’ll come for us.”
Austin nods against my shoulder, and I feel some of the tension leave his small body.
The van turns sharply, throwing us to one side. In the darkness, I try to think. Try to remember anything useful about where we were when they grabbed us, which direction we’re heading.
Whoever took us made a mistake taking both of us. Austin makes me vulnerable, yes, but he also makes me deadly.
Anyone who threatens my son learns that lesson exactly once.