28. Chloe
Chapter 28
Chloe
T he moment Alex reenters the dining room, I know something is wrong. His grim expression and the ashen colour of his face—which is nearly as white as the T-shirt he’s wearing—tell me everything without him saying a word.
“Why don’t you go into the main room and play with some of your toys while I speak with your dad? “ I ask Giovanni as I tentatively rise from my seat.
“Okay,” he replies, getting up and bolting from the room.
Thankfully, when Alex walked in, Giovanni had his back to his father, so he didn’t see what I saw.
“What happened?” I ask as I cross the room and snake my hands around his waist.
“There was a shooting at my father’s estate.”
“Oh no. Is everyone okay?”
“I don’t know,” he replies as his voice cracks. “All I was told was that multiple shots were fired. I don’t know anything more.”
“Oh, Alex.”
“I need to go there. ”
“Is it safe?”
“ Bella , I don’t have a choice. This is my family we’re talking about. I want you and Giovanni to stay here. Please don’t leave under any circumstances. I’ll make sure the guards are on high alert.”
There’s so much I want to ask, but I stay quiet, not wanting to add to his already heavy burden. Instead, I nod and say, “Alright.”
I can see how close he is to breaking, and I don’t want to do or say anything that might push him further.
“Thank you.” He briefly wraps me in his arms, and I can feel his body trembling beneath my touch.
“Do you want me to pack you some clothes while they get the helicopter ready?”
He places his lips on my forehead. “Please.”
I’m jolted from my sleep by the ringing of my phone. I roll over and grab it from the nightstand, and when I see Alex’s number lighting up the screen, I gently throw back the covers and move to the side of the bed.
Giovanni is beside me and, thankfully, hasn’t stirred.
I answer the call as I step out of the room, closing the door softly behind me. “Hey,” I say, my voice a little shaky. It’s the first time I’ve heard from him since he left earlier today.
“Hey, bella .” I can already hear the dejection in his voice. “I’m sorry for calling you in the middle of the night … I just needed to hear your voice.”
“It’s okay. How are you? How are things down there?”
When Giovanni went to bed, I caught a snippet of the news, but as soon as the news anchor said, “Christmas Day massacre” , I quickly turned off the television .
“My dad didn’t make it … he was pronounced deceased at the scene. My brother, Dante, just got out of surgery. He’s in intensive care in a critical condition. I don’t know if he’s going to make it, Chloe,” he says, his voice breaking.
I wish I could put my arms through the phone and hug him. “I’m so sorry, Alex. I hate that I’m not there to comfort you.”
“I could do with one of your hugs, but you are safer where you are. How’s Giovanni?”
“He’s okay, none the wiser. I told him you had to go somewhere for work but would return in a few days.”
“I’m not sure how long I’ll be here for, amore mio. I can’t leave my little brother in this condition … I’m all he has left.”
My heart is breaking for him.
“I understand. Do whatever you need to do. I’ll look after Giovanni until you get back. You don’t need to worry about him.”
“I know you will.”
The next three days seem to drag. I try my hardest to stay present for his little boy, but my heart is not here … it’s wherever Alexander is.
After dinner, I’m bathing Giovanni when I hear the distant thrum of helicopter rotors.
He’s back.
“Do you hear that? I think that might be your daddy,” I tell him, as my heart begins to race in my chest. “Let’s hurry up and get you washed so we can go and greet him.”
Since his last call, I haven’t spoken to Alexander on the phone, but I’ve received a few intermittent messages with updates on his brother. Alexander’s previous text said he was working on transporting Dante to Sydney via air ambulance, hoping he’d get better care there.
By the time Giovanni is out of the bath, dried, and dressed in his pyjamas, the helicopter has landed.
We both rush to the door to greet him. As soon as I open it and find him standing on the front porch, I launch into his arms.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you so much, bella ,” he whispers into the crook of my neck.
“I’ve missed you too.”
When he sets me back on my feet, I retreat just enough to see his face. He looks tired and emotionally drained. “I’m glad you’re home safe and sound,” I say, my voice soft.
He exhales a long breath, his hand ruffling Giovanni’s hair as his little boy wraps his arms around his father’s leg. When his gaze shifts back to me, his expression hardens.
“I have something I need to tell you, Chloe. And I’m not sure how you will take the news.”
The torment in his eyes tells me whatever it is, it’s not good. My heart sinks. I pray he’s not about to tell me he lost the only family he has left. The last I heard, his brother had been moved from the critical list to stable.
Without another word, he steps aside, and that’s when I realise he’s not alone.
My eyes lock with the person standing behind him, and in that instant, my entire world tilts, and everything suddenly feels off-balance. My legs tremble, threatening to give way at any moment. Alexander must notice because his arm reaches out to steady me.
I haven’t seen this woman in years, but there’s no mistaking who she is. “My Chloe-bear,” she whispers, her voice soft but unmistakable.
“M-Mum,” is all I can manage to get out, the word barely escaping my lips.
I’m so angry right now that my head pounds with a dull thud, thud, thud . It feels like I’m on the verge of having a damn stroke.
“What do you mean my mother has been living down in Griffith with your father? For how long?” I yell, my voice shaking with fury.
“Keep your voice down,” Alexander replies, trying to placate me.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I screech. He’s lucky I don’t knock his handsome head right off those broad shoulders.
“If you calm down for a minute, I can explain.”
I want an explanation more than anything, but there’s one thing I need to know first. “How long have you known that she was my mum?”
His shoulders slump slightly, and he turns his face away. I already know the answer before he speaks the words.
“From the moment I found out who you were.”
And just like that, all the happiness and contentment I’ve felt over the past few weeks dissipates instantly. I’m right back to wanting to flee again.
My hand rubs over my breastbone because I’m suddenly finding it hard to breathe. I can’t believe I let myself get fooled by this man. A man I thought I loved, but the cold, hard truth is, I don’t know him at all.
A sense of shock settles over me as I try to digest it all. I feel like the ground has been pulled from underneath me … like I’m suspended in a cold, disorienting haze, unable to fully comprehend what I’m hearing. He knew all along who she was. I poured my damn heart out to this monster—he listened and pretended to care .
My heart aches in a way I never thought was possible, an excruciating pain that feels almost physical, like something vital inside me has been ripped apart.
I need to get out of this room, out of this damn house, but that woman is out there somewhere with Giovanni, and the last thing I want is to face her. If I never see her again, it’ll be too soon.
All those years, I pined for the mother I once cherished and loved with every fibre of my being, only to find out she’s been living her best life the entire time.
I hate her more than I thought possible. This house could burn down right now, with her in it, and I wouldn’t even bat an eyelid.
I can’t even wrap my mind around the fact that, while my father and I were falling apart, she was out there, playing happy families with a Mafia boss no less.
I spin on my heels and rush towards the door. “Chloe, wait,” Alexander says, panic lining his voice. “Let me explain.”
“Explain what exactly? That the man I thought I loved and the one who said he loved me back are not the same person?”
He reaches for me, but I manage to shrug out of his hold as I turn around to face him again. “If you value your life, you’ll keep your hands to yourself,” I snarl through gritted teeth. “I let you sweet talk me once, but I’m not stupid enough to let it happen a second time.”
I fling open the door and storm down the hallway like a woman possessed, only to be greeted by the one person I don’t wish to see.
She rises to her feet and begins to advance toward me. “I understand this is a shock for you, Chloe, but please hear me out,” she pleads.
“I’m not interested in anything you have to say.” Once again, I’m forced to turn and head back the way I came, only to find Alexander standing at the other end of the hallway.
“Mother trucker,” I mutter under my breath.
I’m trapped—no way forward, no way back. My eyes flicker to the side. Alexander must read my mind because the moment I think it, he starts storming in my direction. Fortunately, I’m fast enough to slip into the bathroom and slam the door shut, locking it just before he reaches me.
“Chloe,” he calls out, his fists pounding against the wood.
If he thinks I’m going to hang around in here long enough to hear him out … or kick the door down, like he did last time, he’s mistaken.
I start by turning on all the taps, hoping he’ll think I’m just trying to drown out his voice when, in reality, I’m using the noise to cover my escape. Once I’m sure it’s loud enough to mask my movements, I climb on top of the toilet, slide open the window, and shimmy my arse out of there as quietly as possible.
Once I hit the ground, I do the only thing I can: I run.
In my hurry to escape Alexander and my … mother, which feels strange to say after all this time, I didn’t stop to consider that I was in the middle of nowhere in the dead of night, surrounded by acres of bushland, and barefoot.
Every stick, stone, and God knows what else digs into the soles of my feet with each step. It’s pitch-black, and the only thing stopping me from running straight into a tree and knocking myself out is one of Alexander’s guards, who is hot on my heels and shining a torch at my retreating back. The light barely cuts through the darkness, but it’s enough to give me a split-second warning to dodge any significant obstacles up ahead.
The dick only realised I was fleeing when I rounded the corner of the house and crashed straight into him, sending him sprawling onto his arse. It gave me just enough time to pivot and take off in the other direction—but barely. I can feel him closing in, step by step, but there’s no way I’m stopping now.
I’m so focused on what lies ahead that I don’t even see the small branch lying across my path until my foot snags on it, and I’m suddenly flying forward, my arms flailing out in front of me, but it’s no use. I hit the ground hard, letting out a muffled cry followed by a grunt as the impact knocks all the air from my lungs.
“Got ya,” he says breathlessly as he reaches down to grab me.
I’m not going without a fight. I roll onto my back and kick my legs out in front of me like some crazed animal, aiming to connect anywhere I can—his chest, stomach, or crotch area—anything that might knock him off-balance long enough for me to scramble free.
Within seconds, two more guards arrive, and I’m surrounded. The hopelessness of my situation hits me all at once, and I’m so disillusioned I could scream … or cry. I don’t want to go back to the house. I want to be anywhere but … here.
The two new arrivals reach down, grabbing one arm each while the OG grasps my ankles. I know the jig is up, and I’m going to be returned to my hellish prison, but that doesn’t stop me from twisting and kicking, desperate to break free.
“Calm the fuck down,” one of them says.
“Don’t let the boss man hear you talking to her like that,” another replies .
“If you don’t put me down, I’m going to tell Alexander you all manhandled me,” I threaten.
“They better not have manhandled you,” comes that gravelly voice I’ve come to love—but now really want to loathe—from somewhere nearby. It wraps around me like a curse, familiar and maddening all at once.
“Fuck my life,” I mumble under my breath.
“Unhand her this instant,” he barks as he stalks toward us. “If one hair on her body is out of place,” he growls, his eyes narrowing like a predator zeroing in on its prey, “heads will roll.” His steps are measured, each one echoing with the weight of the threat.
His men freeze as I blow the chunk of hair that’s fallen across my forehead out of my eyes, a slight, deliberate movement that seems to cut through the thick tension in the air. It’s a gesture of defiance, of reclaiming control when I have none.
One of the guys still holding my arm tenses, unsure whether to tighten his grip or release me entirely, while the others shift nervously, eyes darting between their leader and me.
The dick holding my feet carefully places them on the ground, holding his hands up in front of him in surrender.
Alexander growls as he passes him, and once he has me lifted safely into his arms, the other two let go.
“Are you hurt, bella ?” he asks, looking down at me with concern.
My eyes narrow. “Go fuck yourself with a cactus, Mancini,” I grumble.
The only guard still in my line of sight clears his throat and turns his head away, but I don’t miss the beginning of a smile tugging on his lips as he does.
“Leave us,” Alexander barks, his voice commanding and filled with such raw authority that his men scurry away like frightened mice, their boots echoing against the hard, unforgiving ground as they retreat.
I can’t see the soles of my feet from this position, but I can tell they are cut up by the way they throb. The pain is sharp and pulsing, but even that won’t hold me back from fleeing again the first chance I get.
My mother rushes towards us when Alexander enters the house with me in his arms. “ Donzella ,” she cries. “Your feet!”
“Don’t call me that,” I snap.
“Chlo,” Giovanni yells as he bolts down the hallway, his small, stuffed teddy swinging wildly in his hand. His eyes are puffy and red like he’s been crying, and the sight of him pulls at something deep inside me. I didn’t even consider his feelings when I fled, leaving him behind with these two monsters.
Yesterday, I would’ve been ready to move mountains to help Alexander fight for full custody of that little boy. Giovanni deserves stability, love, and safety, and I believed, without a doubt, that Alexander could give him that. But after learning what I have tonight, after seeing the truth behind the scenes, I’m not so sure anymore.
I’m starting to wonder if Giovanni might be better off with his poor excuse of a mother; at least she’s the devil he knows. Maybe that’s less dangerous than whatever twisted reality Alexander’s dragging him into. She may be self-absorbed, but his father is a lying, manipulative fraudster who is willing to stoop to any level to get what he wants.
When he places me down gently on the sofa, Giovanni immediately climbs onto my lap and snuggles into my chest. “ I’m so glad you came back,” he says, his little voice cracking, and that makes me feel even shittier.
“I’ll get something for her poor feet,” my mother says.
The moment Alexander’s gaze shifts toward the soles of my feet, he looks ready to self-combust.
He stiffens, his entire posture rigid as if the idea of someone else tending to me is enough to ignite something dangerous within him.
“I’ll do it,” he growls.