Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Kristen
Lily's giggle floats through the media room like wind chimes.
Vittoria has my daughter tucked against her side on the massive sectional, a cashmere blanket draped over both of them like they've been doing this forever.
On the screen, Moana belts out her anthem about the ocean calling her name, and Lily mouths along to every word, her small hand clutching Sir Floppington against her chest.
"Your mom has great taste in movies," Vittoria tells her, tucking a strand of Lily's hair behind her ear with such casual tenderness that my throat tightens.
"Mommy cries at the grandma part," Lily whispers conspiratorially.
"So does my mom." Vittoria grins. "It's a mom thing."
I lean against the doorframe, watching them. Vittoria Sartori is currently making fish faces at my four-year-old. And Lily? Lily is eating it up.
My phone vibrates in my pocket.
I pull it out, expecting a text from my mother.
The name on the screen makes my stomach drop through the floor.
Jack Walker.
For a full three seconds, I consider not answering. Just letting it ring until voicemail catches it, then blocking his number and pretending he doesn't exist.
But Jack doesn't go away when you ignore him. Jack escalates.
I slip into the hallway, putting two closed doors between me and Lily's Disney marathon before I swipe to answer.
"Kristen." His voice is warm. Friendly. The voice he uses when other people might be listening. "How's my favourite girl?"
Your favourite girl is currently learning Italian words from a twenty-three-year-old hacker, and she's happier than I've seen her in months.
"What do you want, Jack?"
"Can't a father call to check on his daughter?" He sounds wounded. Hurt. Like I'm the unreasonable one. "I'm back in Chicago. Flew in this morning. Thought I'd swing by, take Lily to the park or something."
The floor tilts beneath my feet.
"Today's not good," I manage. "We have plans."
"Plans." He repeats the word like it's amusing. Like I'm a child playing pretend. "What kind of plans?"
"The kind that don't involve you."
Silence. Then his voice shifts. Drops the warmth like a mask he's tired of wearing.
"I want to see my daughter, Kristen. Today. I have every right—"
"You have no rights." The words rip out of me before I can stop them.
My free hand is shaking. I press it flat against the wall to steady myself.
"You left her, Jack. You moved to New York with your girlfriend and didn't look back.
Three months. Three months without a single visit, only a phone call now and then—"
"I've been busy."
"You've been avoiding your responsibilities." My voice is rising. I force it down, acutely aware of how sound carries in this house. "You don't get to show up whenever it's convenient for you and demand access to a child you've done nothing to support."
"She's my daughter."
"Then act like her father! Pay the debt you put in my name. Send child support." I'm breathing hard now, my chest tight like someone's wrapped wire around my ribs. "You don't get to disappear for months and then waltz back in expecting—"
"I'll see her today, Kristen." His voice is cold. Final. "Or I'll call my lawyer. See how a judge feels about a mother who denies a father access to his own child."
The threat lands like a punch to the gut.
"You wouldn't."
"Try me." A pause. "I know you can't afford a custody fight. I know exactly how much you have in your account, actually. Down to the cent." He chuckles. "You think I don't have friends who can check these things? You're barely keeping your head above water, and you want to play games with me?"
My vision blurs. I can't tell if it's rage or fear or both.
"I'll call you tomorrow," I say, and my voice sounds wrong. Thin. Like someone else is speaking through my mouth. "When Lily is available."
"Today, Kristen. Or—"
I hang up.
The phone nearly slips from my sweat-slick palm. I catch it, press it against my chest, and try to remember how to breathe.
In. Out. In. Out.
He's bluffing. He has to be bluffing. Jack doesn't want custody—he doesn't want Lily. He wants control. He wants me scared and compliant and small.
But what if he's not bluffing? What if he actually—
A hand touches my arm.
I spin, a strangled sound escaping my throat, and find myself staring up at Nico Sartori.
Nico
"What's going on?"
Kristen flinches, her hand still pressed against her chest like she's trying to keep her heart from escaping.
"Nothing." She forces a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "Everything's fine."
Bullshit.
I heard her voice through the door. Not the words, but the tone. The way it dropped to something small and tight. The way she said no like she'd said it a thousand times before and knew it wouldn't matter.
"Try again." I step closer. "What did he say?"
Her chin lifts. That stubborn set to her jaw I'm starting to recognize. "It's just a small thing with Lily's father. Nothing that affects my work here."
She's lying. Not about the father part—I know that much is true. But the small thing? The tremor in her hands says otherwise.
"I won't make personal calls during work hours again," she adds quickly. "It was unprofessional. I'm sorry."
Like I give a damn about phone policies.
"I don't care about that."
Her brow furrows. "You don't?"
"No."
"Oh." She blinks, confusion flickering across her face. Then something else—wariness. "Then why are you—" She stops herself. Shakes her head. "Never mind. I should get back to Lily."
She moves to step around me.
I don't let her.
My hand catches the wall beside her head, cutting off her escape route. She freezes, back pressing against the cool plaster. Her eyes go wide, but not with fear. Not exactly.
I've seen fear before. I've caused it. I know what it looks like when someone thinks they're about to die.
This isn't that.
"What did he say to you?" A command, not a request.
"Nico—"
"You were scared." I lean closer, boxing her in with my body. Close enough to smell vanilla in her hair. Close enough to see the faint shadows under her eyes that makeup can't quite hide. "I heard it in your voice. So tell me what he said."
Her throat works as she swallows. "It's not your problem."
"Wrong answer."
"It's really not—"
"Kristen. I'm not asking."
For a long moment, she just stares at me. I watch the war play out behind her eyes—pride versus exhaustion, stubbornness versus the weight of carrying everything alone.
Finally, something cracks.
"He wants to see Lily." The words come out quiet. Almost defeated. "Says he's going to fight for custody."
My jaw tightens. "On what grounds?"
"Does it matter?" A bitter laugh escapes her. "He's got money. I don't. That's usually enough."
"Kristen—"
"Nico?"
I freeze.
Vittoria's voice cuts through the hallway like a blade. I turn my head and find my sister standing at the corner, Lily perched on her hip. Both of them stare at us with identical expressions of curiosity.
Shit.
I'm still too close. My hand still pressed against the wall beside Kristen's head, my body angled toward hers like a shield. Or a cage. From where Vittoria's standing, this looks like—
It looks like exactly what it is.
I push back. Put distance between us. Kristen's cheeks flush pink as she smooths down her shirt, avoiding everyone's eyes.
Vittoria's mouth curves into that insufferable smirk. The one she's been perfecting since she was twelve and caught me sneaking back into the compound at 3 AM.
I meet her gaze. Don't.
She presses her lips together, but her shoulders shake with barely contained laughter. Lily, oblivious to the tension, waves her stuffed rabbit at me.
"Mister Nico! Sir Floppington says goodnight!"
I clear my throat. "Goodnight, Sir Floppington."
Kristen moves toward her daughter, arms already reaching. "Come here, baby girl. Let's go to the kitchen."
"But I wanna stay with Tori!" Lily's lower lip wobbles. "We were watching the part where Moana finds Maui!"
"We can finish it another time, piccola," Vittoria says, kissing the top of Lily's head before handing her over. "I'll remember exactly where we stopped."
Kristen settles Lily on her hip, the motion practiced and easy. "Are you finished with dinner?" I ask.
"Yes." She still won't look at me directly. "Giulia made sure to have enough to feed an army."
"She always does." I pull out my phone. "I'll have Dante take you back."
"Oh, you don't have to—" She catches herself. "I mean, it's still early. I can call a car service."
"It's handled."
"But if it's inconvenient—"
"Kristen." I wait until she finally meets my eyes. "You're fine. We're good for now."
Something in her expression shifts. A tiny crack in that careful composure. She nods once.
"Thank you." Her voice comes out softer. "And thank you, Vittoria. For spending time with Lily. She had a wonderful time."
"Are you kidding? I had a wonderful time." Vittoria grins. "This one knows all the words to 'How Far I'll Go.' We're basically best friends now."
Lily beams. "Tori does the Maui voice really good!"
"High praise," I say dryly.
Kristen's mouth twitches. Almost a smile. Then she hoists Lily higher and heads for the stairs. "Say goodnight, Lily."
"Goodnight, Tori! Goodnight, Mister Nico!"
I watch them disappear down the hallway. Listen to their footsteps fade. The front door opens and closes.
Silence.
Then Vittoria opens her mouth.
"Don't," I warn.
"I wasn't going to say anything."
"Good."
"Nothing at all."
"Excellent."
"Except—"
"Vittoria."
"—that was very interesting." She leans against the wall, arms crossed, grinning like the cat that caught the canary. "The whole brooding-against-the-wall thing. Very dramatic. Very... intense."
"If you talk, you'll regret it."
"Talk about what?" She bats her eyelashes. "The fact that my emotionally constipated brother was practically pressed up against the pretty housekeeper? In a hallway? Looking like he wanted to either kiss her or interrogate her? Possibly both?"
My jaw tightens. "I was asking her a question."
"Mmm. Is that what we're calling it now?" She pushes off the wall and circles me like a shark scenting blood. "Because in my eyes, it looked a lot like you were doing that thing. You know. The thing."
"I don't have a thing."
"You absolutely have a thing. The whole 'I'm going to crowd your personal space and stare at you until you confess your deepest secrets' thing. You've been doing it since you were fifteen."
"That's called interrogation. It's a skill."
"Sure." She nods sagely. "A skill you use on suspected enemies and women you're attracted to."
I take a step toward her. "Vittoria."
She doesn't flinch. Never has. "Yes, dear brother?"
"Drop it."
"I'm just making an observation."
"Make it somewhere else."
"Fine, fine." She holds up her hands in surrender, but that damn smirk stays firmly in place. "I won't say another word about how you've assigned Dante as her personal driver. Or how you let her bring Lily here. Or how you just spent the last five minutes looking at her like she's—"
"Vittoria."
"—a particularly complex algorithm you're desperate to solve."
I pinch the bridge of my nose. Breathe. Count to ten.
She laughs. Bright and musical and utterly unrepentant. "Oh, this is going to be fun."
"Nothing is going to be anything."
"Whatever you say, Nico." She pats my cheek as she passes me, heading toward her wing. "Whatever you say."
I stand alone in the hallway. Silence settles around me like a shroud.
I head to the office because I have work to do. Numbers to run. Patterns to analyze.
I don't think about vanilla-scented hair.
I don't think about grey-blue eyes going wide when I crowded her against the wall.
I don't think about the way her voice cracked when she said he's got money, I don't.
I absolutely don't think about the name Jack Walker, or the way my fingers are already itching to dig into every corner of his miserable existence.
I think about nothing at all.