37. Alexander
Chapter 37
Alexander
W e sit in the car, the silence between us thick and suffocating, neither of us speaking. The shock of what just happened hangs heavy in the air, and I can feel it pressing down on me. Regret gnaws at my insides.
I shouldn’t have brought him here.
I should’ve known better.
When we get back to Sydney, I’m seeing a lawyer. I don’t care what it costs or how long it takes, I’ll do whatever is necessary to get full custody. She doesn’t deserve him. He deserves better than the chaos and instability she brings.
Ten minutes pass before I finally pull out my phone; my hands are itching to do something … anything.
“What are you doing?” Chloe asks, her voice breaking through the quiet.
I don’t look at her as I tap away at the screen. “Searching for the restaurant’s address,” I reply, my tone clipped. “I’m not going to wait for her to send it to me. We can sit outside in the car and wait for him there. At least that way, I can keep an eye on them.”
Chloe doesn’t say anything at first, but I can feel her gaze on me. She knows how badly I want to protect Giovanni. “Good idea.”
It only takes a few seconds of searching to realise something is wrong. “Fuck,” I mumble under my breath as I reach for the key in the ignition to start the car.
“What’s wrong?”
“Trattoria Angelo is in Rome. A nine-fucking-hour drive from here.”
“Oh, my God,” Chloe says over a gasp.
I pass my phone to her. “Call her number … keep trying until you get through.” My heart is thundering in my chest as I pull back onto the road, speeding in the direction they drove off in.
“What do you mean she took him?” Dante roars when we return to the estate, his voice sharp and furious.
I run a hand through my hair, tugging slightly, the weight of everything pressing down on me. We drove around for hours, and my panic grew with every second that passed. My heart is pounding in my chest, a mix of anger and fear so overwhelming it’s hard to breathe.
“We searched everywhere … I even went to the local polizia . But they can’t do anything since we’re foreigners, and I don’t have legal custody.” The frustration boils over, and I can feel my hands shaking. “There’s nothing they can do.”
“Like fuck, there’s nothing they can do,” he bellows. “What information do you have?”
“Not much. The colour and model of the car … the direction they were travelling. I don’t even know which hotel she was staying at.” I swallow hard, trying to steady myself. “I should’ve gotten the registration number of that he ap of shit they pulled up in. That should’ve been my first red flag.”
Dante looks like he’s about to explode. His hands curl into fists, and his jaw is clenched tight. I know he’s thinking the same thing I am: What if something happens to him? What if we never get him back?
“Text me everything you have.”
“What good is that going to do?”
“Just do it,” he snaps.
“We’ve been calling her phone constantly, but she’s not picking up.”
“I need her number as well,” he replies, turning and stalking towards the front door.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“To try and find my nephew.”
The door slams shut behind him as he exits. A minute later, we hear his Bugatti screech out of the driveway.
“What can he do that we haven’t already done?” Chloe asks as her eyes fill with tears again. Seeing her upset only amplifies my distress. She cried all the way home.
If my suspicions are correct and he’s been doing what I think he has, he may be our only hope. When my father was alive, he had a lot of connections in Italy, but they are things she doesn’t need to know.
“Come here, cuore mio ,” I say, reaching for her and wrapping an arm around her shoulder, crushing her to me. “We’ll get him back … I won’t rest until we do.”
With my spare hand, I slide my phone out of my pocket and pull up Dante’s number.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“Sending my brother all the info we have.”
It’s the middle of the night, and neither of us has managed to get any sleep. The silence feels oppressive as the hours stretch with no word from Dante or Sophia.
I lie here, staring into the darkness, a wave of helplessness washing over me. All I can do is wait, and that waiting feels like torture.
My fear isn’t that Giovanni is in immediate danger—I don’t think his mother would physically hurt him. It’s something worse. The thought that I might never see him again is my greatest concern. I can’t make sense of why he was taken like this … without warning. It’s been gnawing at me relentlessly.
I always knew his mother would return for him eventually—more than likely when the money ran out—but I never imagined it would happen like this. I never got to say a proper goodbye; I never thought his time with us would end in such confusion and chaos.
Her actions make no sense, and that’s what I’m struggling with the most. Was she worried I’d never give him back? That I’d follow through on my threats and try to gain full custody?
Until today, she’d shown zero interest in him. No calls, no messages, nothing. It’s like she didn’t even care, so her irrational move feels like a slap in the face.
I hear Chloe’s soft sniffles against my chest, the sound pulling me out of my thoughts. I lift my head off the pillow and place my lips gently on the top of her head, trying to offer whatever comfort I can. She’s been swinging between anger and despair all evening. I’ve struggled to keep it together, but I need to remain strong for them both.
“We’ll get him back, bella ,” I whisper into the darkness, my voice barely a breath. I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince her or myself.
My words hang in the air, heavy and hollow, despite the conviction I try to force into them. The truth is I have no idea how this is going to play out.
Chloe doesn’t respond, but I can feel her warm breath against my chest. Her quiet sobs are like a physical ache I can’t bear. These last few days in Italy were supposed to be our honeymoon.
It started as one of the highlights of my trip but soon spiralled into the worst torment I could’ve imagined. The joy we felt just hours ago now feels like a distant, fading memory.
It’s reminiscent of last Christmas, when what started out as one of the best days of my life—spending my first Christmas morning with Chloe and my son—before it spiralled into a living fucking nightmare. My father’s assassination shattered everything in an instant, turning my joy into devastation.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“Sorry for what?” I ask, confused.
“It’s all my fault.”
“This isn’t your fault at all, bella .”
“He called me ‘Mummy’ in front of her … and she snapped.”
I slide my hands under her arms, dragging her along my body until our faces are level. “Chloe, she set this up long before that happened. She gave us the restaurant’s name before Giovanni exited the car. This was planned before we even arrived.”
Why? I have no clue. Was it money orientated? If that’s the case, she went about it the wrong way. Pissing me off and putting not only me but my wife through this turbulence is not going to do Sophia any favours.
I gently cup Chloe’s face in my hands, using my thumbs to wipe away her tears. “Sweetheart,” I say softly, “I don’t think I’ve ever properly thanked you for what you gave my son. A mother figure he’s always longed for. You love that little boy, just like I do, even though he’s not biologically yours. And I’ll be forever grateful to you for that.”
“It hasn’t even been a day, and I already miss him.”
I fucking miss him too, but I can’t go there with her right now. If I do, I’ll fall apart. Instead, I pull her face closer, pressing my lips to hers. We both need the distraction.
One of my hands skims down her side and over that round peachy arse of hers to grasp her leg, dragging it over mine until she’s straddling my lap. My dick swells as I do.
“I need you, bella ,” I whisper against her mouth.
“I need you too,” she replies, deepening the kiss. I’m not sure how I’d get through this or the death of my father if it weren’t for her. She’s the light in my darkness.
Where light and dark collide, miracles arise.
Chloe pulls out of the kiss and drags herself up onto her knees when my fingers move between her legs, working her over until she’s ripe and ready for me.
Only then do I wrap my other hand around the base of my dick, stroking it back and forth as I line myself up with her opening.
The moment I slip the crown of my cock inside her, I have to force my eyes shut as the full implications of this situation crash down on me. It’s like I’m trapped in some twisted version of reality, stuck somewhere between heaven and hell.
When she spreads her legs wider, sliding down my shaft, taking every inch of me inside her, I grip her hips and hold her in place.
I need a moment.
It feels wrong to be here, doing this while my son is out there somewhere, probably scared and wondering why I haven’t kept my promise to come get him, but at the same time, I need this. I need my wife’s comfort, the diversion, because if I don’t get it, I will lose my fucking mind.
I open my eyes when Chloe places her flattened palms on my chest and begins to move. “ Ti amo, mia bellissima moglie .”
My beautiful wife.
I’m going to grow old with this woman and fill her luscious body with all our children. I can only pray that Giovanni will be there to meet his siblings, because I know, without a doubt, he’ll be the best big brother ever.
Our faces are sombre as we sit at the dining room table, staring at the plates of food in front of us. Neither of us has an appetite. We didn’t eat breakfast either, despite Carmella’s pleas that we need to keep up our strength.
It’s been over twenty-four hours, and we still haven’t heard anything. I’ve been calling both my brother and Sophia nonstop. I’m unsure if their phones are off or they’re ignoring me, but I can’t just sit here all day and do nothing.
I push my plate away and stand. The movement jolts Chloe out of her daze as her eyes snap up to meet mine. “Where are you going?” she asks, her voice tinged with concern.
“I’m going to drive around for a bit,” I reply, running my hands through my hair in frustration. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing … I feel like I’m going out of my mind.”
“Same,” she says, rising from her chair. “But where do we even begin? They could be anywhere by now.”
“True, but at least we still have his passport, so she wouldn’t have been able to leave the country with him.”
“That’s something.”
“Carmella,” I call out, and moments later, she comes rushing into the dining room. “Chloe and I are going out for a bit … if Dante returns, can you call me immediately?”
“He just pulled up in the driveway,” she replies, her voice barely above a whisper. “I saw him from the kitchen window.”
I round the table and stalk toward the front door, but before I reach the foyer, I hear something that almost brings me to my knees.
“Daddy!”
I break into a run. When I round the corner and see my son standing beside my brother, I come to a screeching halt before dropping to his level and opening my arms wide.
“Giovanni,” I say, my voice breaking as I pull him into me, crushing his tiny body against mine.
He softly cries into my chest as I glance up at my brother, who’s standing there with a cocky grin on his face. I don’t know how he did it, and maybe that’s something I don’t want to know, but I’ll be eternally grateful to him for bringing my son home.
“Thank you,” I mouth. The words are barely a whisper, but they are full of gratitude.
Dante nods once, shoving his hands into the pockets of his suit trousers. He’s still wearing the same clothes he had on yesterday, though they’re a little more dishevelled now. His tie and jacket are gone, and the sleeves of his dress shirt are rolled up to his elbows, revealing the numerous tattoos on his forearms—ones you don’t often get to see.
“Giovanni!” Chloe shrieks as she rushes into the foyer.
“Mummy,” he cries, releasing me and running over to her.
“My baby,” she says, pulling him into her arms. Hearing her say those words almost break me.
When she finally releases him from the hug, Chloe cups his little face, her eyes scanning it with a mixture of relief and worry. “Are you okay?” she asks, her gaze moving slowly down his body, checking for any signs of injury.
“Uncle Dante saved me,” Giovanni replies, his voice small but full of awe.
I stand, moving toward my brother. Instead of offering him a handshake, I pull him into a tight hug. “Thank you,” I repeat, my voice thick with emotion. No words will ever be enough.
“You don’t need to thank me, I love that kid too.”
Releasing him, I take a step back and clear my throat, trying to loosen that damn knot now forming. “Where were they?”
“About five hours from here.”
“You didn’t …” I let the sentence drift off, but I’m sure he gets my meaning.
“Wack her? No, but I would’ve liked to. That bitch has had it coming for a long time. I did rough up that dick she was with, though. He demanded a million dollars in exchange for the kid. Can you believe the fucking hide of him?”
So I was right, this was money-oriented. “Did you pay him?”
“Fuck no.”
“What did you do?”
“I beat the fuck out of him, and he cried like a little baby.”
“He did,” Giovanni chimes in, balling his tiny hands into fists and wildly punching the air. “Pow, pow, pow,” he says with all the enthusiasm. “It was epic, Dad.”
“Okay, Rocky,” I state, chuckling as I shake my head.
I’m not sure who suggested taking him in exchange for money, but either way, he went along with it, so he deserved whatever my brother gave him. I would’ve done the same.
“I have something else for you,” Dante says .
“What?” I ask.
He pulls out a small stack of folded papers from his back pocket and hands them to me.
“What’s this?”
“She signed over her parental rights to you.”
I rear back at his words. “How did you manage to convince her to do that?”
He casually lifts one shoulder. “I have my ways.”
“Is this legit?”
“Yes, I got my lawyer to email me the paperwork.”
“None of this makes sense. She would never freely agree to give him up. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
My brother gives my shoulder a light squeeze. “The difference is that you are not me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Simple. You have a heart, Alexander … I don’t, and she knows that.”
“What did she get out of this? Did you have to pay her to sign these?” I ask, holding up the papers in my hand.
“No, her payment was she got to live,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Okay, maybe I don’t need to know the finer details.”
“Good call, but if I were you, I’d head back to Sydney as soon as possible and file those papers.”
My eyes scan the paperwork in disbelief. Is this actually happening? Is Giovanni finally mine? “I’ll get the jet organised.”
“I’m going to head upstairs and shower,” Dante says. “I need some sleep.”
“Okay. I’ll wake you when we’re ready to leave.”
“Don’t bother. I’m going to hang around for a bit. I have some loose ends to tie up.”
“What loose ends?”
“That’s a story for another day, big brother.”