Chapter 30
DANTE
She looks so sad.
I notice it every time I glance at her. The slump of her shoulders as she moves around the apartment.
The way she hugs herself when she thinks no one is watching.
The dullness in her eyes that used to hold fire and stubbornness.
Adriana barely speaks now, and when she does, her voice is so quiet I almost don’t recognize it.
I watch her from across the room and every instinct in me wants to reach out, to pull her close, to tell her everything I haven’t said.
I want to promise her safety, to promise her that it will all work out, to touch her just to feel her warmth against my skin.
But I can’t. I made a choice, one I can’t back away from, and every time I open my mouth to speak, the words catch in my throat.
If I break my promise, if I let my guard down now, I put her in even more danger than before.
Sometimes I wonder if she knows how much I’m holding back, how much it costs me to keep this distance.
At night, I lie awake listening to her breathe, just on the other side of the bed, so close but a world away.
I want to wrap her in my arms, beg her to forgive me, but I stay still, afraid that if I touch her I’ll never let her go.
I tell myself this is for her own good. That it’s better to be cold than to give her hope I can’t keep. But it hurts to see her this way. And I can’t help but think that every time I pull away, I lose her a little more.
I button up my shirt and stand at the dresser, fighting with a stubborn cuff link. Julianne appears in the doorway, hair freshly brushed, wearing one of Adriana’s old sweaters. She picks up the cuff links from the tray and brings them to me, her smile uncertain but grateful.
“Let me help,” she says, sliding the cuff links through the fabric with nimble fingers. Her hands are steady now, nothing like the frightened girl I found days ago. “You have an important meeting?”
I nod, distracted, catching Adriana’s reflection in the mirror. She stands in the hallway, watching us quietly, arms folded across her chest. Her gaze lingers for a moment, eyes tired and sad, before she turns and disappears down the hall. I can feel the distance between us like a weight.
I wonder what to do with Julianne now. I can’t take her back to the estate, and Chicago doesn’t feel safe anymore. Maybe I could set her up with Bella, at least until things settle down, but even that feels like a half-answer. She can never really go back to her old life.
Julianne rests her hand lightly on my shoulder, pulling me from my thoughts. “Dante, there’s something I need to get from my old place. It’s important. Can you take me?”
I look at her, hesitating. “Now?”
She nods, eyes pleading. “Please. I just…I need to feel like I have a piece of my own life again. Just for a little while.”
I think about it, weighing the risk, and finally sigh. “All right. We leave in ten minutes.”
It feels strange, driving with Julianne beside me, making small talk about the past as if any of this is normal.
There was a time, maybe years ago, when I might have found her beautiful—maybe even wanted her.
But now, sitting next to her, all I feel is distance.
She’s just another lost Petrova, and when I glance over, all I can think of is Adriana.
Every detail, every word, every bit of color in my world points back to her.
Julianne gives me quiet directions, guiding me across town to a different apartment complex from the place where I found her.
“Luka and I…we were crashing at his friend’s place for a while,” she says, her voice soft.
“It was fine at first, but after a week, Luka started getting paranoid. He said people were watching him, following us. That’s why he took me to that abandoned building.
Said it was safer there. I didn’t know what else to do. ”
She hugs her coat tighter around her.
I nod, not sure what to say. Her story feels like it belongs to someone else now, a life I’m only passing through.
The only person I want to see, to be near, is Adriana.
Even with Julianne sitting inches away, my mind is somewhere else entirely—wondering if Adriana’s eaten, if she’s still angry, if she’ll ever trust me again.
“Do you want me to wait here for you?”
“No, not at all, I’ll be fine,” she says hastily.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
She nods. “Yeah, yeah.”
“What if his friends are still around?” I ask.
“I’ll be fine, I’ll make an excuse. Luka is in the wind anyway. I don’t think he’s even found the time to speak to them.”
“Okay,” I say, trying to keep the frown off my face. Something isn’t adding up. She seemed so scared three nights ago, when I rescued her. But I see none of that fear on her face anymore.
As I watch Julianne walk to the curb, ready to drive off, I hear Adriana’s voice in my memory—one of the few times she was smiling, eyes bright, teasing me late at night.
You’re always so sure, Dante. But my gut’s saved me more than once.
Sometimes you need to trust a woman’s instincts over a man’s pride.
I mutter it under my breath now, forcing myself to listen to the unease crawling up my spine. Something’s not right.
Instead of leaving, I roll the car forward a little and park in the shadow of a battered streetlamp, engine low.
I watch in the mirror as Julianne lingers on the sidewalk, her back to the building, not moving toward the entrance.
She keeps glancing up and down the street, like she’s waiting for something, or someone.
I grip the wheel, forcing myself to stay still, watching every movement through the rearview.
When a man approaches, Julianne doesn’t look surprised to see him.
She glances over her shoulder, then steps closer to the curb, her voice low as she speaks to him.
He barely acknowledges her, just opens the back door of his car and gestures for her to get in.
She hesitates for a moment, looking nervous, then climbs into the car.
My jaw clenches. I recognize the driver now—Andrei, one of the old guard, loyal to my father, never to me. The car pulls away from the curb, slipping into traffic as if it’s any other ordinary day.
But it isn’t. My chest tightens with suspicion, betrayal, and a kind of dread I can’t quite name. Was Julianne running from Luka—or running to my family? Did she reach out to them, or did they find her first? And why use one of my father’s men for the pickup, keeping me in the dark?
I start the car, following at a distance, all my instincts screaming. Adriana was right.
I follow the sedan through traffic, two cars back, every sense wired. The city outside my window blurs past. My mind is working overtime, piecing together the last hour, wondering what the hell Julianne is planning—and what my father has to do with it.
The car finally pulls up outside a small, upscale restaurant on the edge of the old district.
I park across the street, hidden by a delivery van, and wait, engine off, eyes locked on the entrance.
Julianne steps out first, scanning the sidewalk.
She disappears inside. I spot Andrei lingering by the door, arms folded, never far from his phone.
She heads inside, and through the window I see her approach a table in the corner.
My father sits waiting, stone-faced, his expression hard, unreadable. He doesn’t stand or greet her warmly. Instead, he just gestures for her to sit. The two of them face each other over a mostly empty table, the conversation tense, Julianne looking pale in the lamplight.
I stay out in the dark, my pulse beating hard in my ears. What the hell are they talking about? Every instinct in me wants to storm in there, demand answers, but I hold back, waiting, trying to figure out what this meeting really means.
Just as I’m about to move, my phone rings. Oleg’s name flashes on the screen. I answer, my voice tight. “What is it?”
He hesitates. “Boss…Adriana isn’t in the apartment.”
I freeze, anger and dread twisting in my gut. “What do you mean she’s not in the apartment?”
“She’s gone. I—I had just stepped out for a minute. She took the service stairs. Looks like she was planning it.”
I grit my teeth, jaw aching. “How could you let this happen? You’re supposed to watch her, Oleg!”
Oleg’s voice is thick with regret. “I only stepped out for a few minutes. After what you told me the other night about moving her, I thought maybe it was you. Maybe you asked her to go.”
I shut my eyes for a second, cursing myself. I had told him I was thinking about moving her for safety, but I never gave an order. Now she’s gone, out there alone.
My mind is spinning, my anger at Julianne and my father evaporating, replaced by a single, razor-clear focus—finding Adriana.
I race back to the apartment, my mind crowded with worry and guilt. My phone lights up with Julianne’s name, but I let it ring. Whatever’s happening between her and my father can wait. Right now, all I care about is Adriana. I can’t let her slip away.
Even if my father wants her out of my life, even if I promised things I never should have, the truth is, I love her. God help me, I do. And now she’s gone.
I reach the apartment and tear through every room, searching for anything. A note, a trace, a sign of where she went. Nothing. Panic claws at my chest. I curse, running a hand through my hair, desperate.
Frustrated, I storm into the bathroom, ready to punch the wall. My fist comes down on the counter tile, pain flaring in my knuckles. That’s when I see it, a bit of white plastic peeking out from the trash bin.
I freeze, heart hammering. I pull it out, staring at the two faint pink lines on the little window. It’s a pregnancy test. Positive.
For a moment, the world tilts and goes quiet.
Adriana is pregnant.
My chest tightens with a thousand emotions—shock, joy, terror, a love so fierce it threatens to tear me open.
I have to find her. I have to bring her home. Whatever it takes, I can’t lose her now—not when I finally understand how much she means to me.