Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Adrianna
Mom and I are just about ready to leave for the school play.
Coats on, scarves wrapped, the giant wooden sign Mom crafted loaded into the back of my SUV.
Bella’s been at the school for two hours already, and Adele’s there already setting up the bakery’s snack stand with all the goodies we’re donating for tonight.
All I need are my gloves, because—seriously—fuck, it’s cold, and Mom.
I grab them off the hook by the door just as the doorbell rings.
“Who could that be?” Mom mutters, fluffing her hair in the hall mirror and winding the fluffy scarf Bella got her for Christmas this year around her neck.
“I’ll get it,” I say, already smiling, assuming it’s a neighbor or maybe one of the drama moms needing last-minute cookies.
I open the door—and freeze.
There’s a man standing on my porch.
A stranger.
Tall. Broad. Menacing in a way that sets my instincts screaming.
He smiles at me, but it’s not friendly.
It’s smug.
Hungry.
Like he’s savoring a secret I don’t know yet.
Every hair on my body stands on end.
I instinctively shift, stepping into the doorway so the door can’t swing open any farther.
“Can I help you?” I ask, my tone is polite but wary.
“Hello there,” he drawls, voice smooth like old whiskey with something rotten underneath. “You’re Bonnie’s sister, ain’t you?”
Ice floods my veins.
“Um, who are you?” I manage.
The man’s grin widens. “Name’s Giovanni Russo. Bella’s father.”
My stomach drops so hard I swear I feel the floor tilt.
“What?”
“I’ve come to see my little girl.”
He says it with a smirk, like he expects me to hand her over with a bow.
“I’m sorry,” I say, holding my ground, “but you need to leave.”
He ignores that entirely. “Look, I’ll make this easy on you. Just let me see her—”
“She’s not here right now,” I cut in. “And as far as I know, Bella doesn’t have a father.”
He chuckles. Actually chuckles. The sound makes my skin crawl.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Bonnie wasn’t no Virgin Mary.” His eyes narrow, sharpen. “She took something of mine after she ran off to have my kid. Now I want it back.”
It.
He called Bella an it.
I grip the door tighter to keep from slamming it into his face.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Russo, was it? There’s nothing for you here. I suggest you leave,” I say through clenched teeth.
“Oh, Adrianna,” he purrs, pulling a card from his coat and flicking it toward me. “Let’s not make this ugly. Set things up so I can see my little girl, and we can work something out without lawyers.”
He steps back, cold air swirling around him like a bad omen.
“See you real soon,” he adds, emphasizing each word. “Adrianna.”
He smirks one last time before turning and walking down my steps like he owns the whole damn town.
My skin crawls. My stomach twists. I feel violated just by talking to him.
Bella’s father.
No. No, no, no.
Bonnie had never said a name.
Never mentioned a man.
Never hinted at fear.
But this—this is bad. Everything about that man screams danger.
“Ad, who was that?” Mom asks behind me, voice tight with concern.
I shut the door, lock it, and force myself to breathe.
“Wrong house,” I say too quickly, too brightly.
Mom’s eyes narrow, but I barrel past her before she can ask anything else. I will not let tonight be destroyed.
Bella has worked too hard, and this play is a big deal. She deserves her moment.
I’ll deal with it.
Later.
When I’m not shaking.
When my heart isn’t hammering so hard it hurts.
But one thing is already crystal clear to me. Giovanni Russo isn’t going away.
And neither is the fear curling like smoke in my chest.