Chapter 7
ADRIANO
The hum of tires on the road fills the silence in the car as I drive us back to Long Island.
Eva stares out the window, I imagine plotting her escape. Mirabella sleeps in the backseat.
This isn't how I imagined finding Eva again.
In my darkest moments, I'd fantasized about her return, sometimes as a ghost haunting me for failing to protect her, other times as a woman who'd escaped from a madman out for revenge against my family.
Neither fantasy prepared me for reality—Eva battered and bloodied, clutching a child who isn't mine, looking at me like I'm the threat she fears most.
You were never supposed to know I was still alive.
She put me through hell on purpose.
She chose another man.
Chose to have his child.
Chose to let me believe she was dead.
So why the fuck is she in my car?
I tell myself I'm bringing her home solely to protect the girl.
Children are innocent.
She deserves safety regardless of her parentage.
And I need to discover what Ivan wants with Eva.
Why would the Bratva expend so many resources hunting one woman?
Those are the only reasons.
Not the way my heart stuttered when I first spotted her.
Not the visceral rage that consumed me at watching those men corner her.
And certainly not the flicker of our past that burned through me when I touched her wounds.
I glance in the rearview mirror at the sleeping child.
She has Eva's features, though something about her seems familiar.
Perhaps it's just the ghost of what might have been.
The family I once thought we'd have.
No. Eva killed that future the day she disappeared.
She killed my ability to love, to trust.
And that's a blessing.
Love is weakness, and I've spent four years purging myself of weakness.
So the woman beside me is merely a means to an end, a way to get information and hurt Ivan, nothing more.
At least, that's what I keep telling myself.
The closer we get to the compound, the tighter Eva grips the door handle.
Each mile seems to wind her anxiety higher.
It’s almost as if I’m not the only one she’s afraid of.
"Relax," I say. "I've already kept you alive once today."
She doesn't answer, just turns back to check on Mirabella still sound asleep in the back seat.
When the iron gates of the Dante estate come into view, Eva flinches.
The sprawling compound hasn't changed.
It’s still a fortress, even more so after the Bratva got in and tried to kill Katerina and Luca last year.
To the outside eye, though, it looks like a regular mansion.
I pull up to the gate and stop as guards step out. “Hey, Joey. Taking her to see the Don.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Dante.” Joey nods to another guard who opens the gate.
"Please," she says, her voice filled with dread. "Not the Don."
"He needs to know you're alive." I pause, studying her, not understanding her fear. "And why the Bratva wants you badly enough to risk war with us."
The gates open and I drive through. When I park, she doesn't move.
"Out," I command, opening her door.
She hesitates but then exits, her body moving like an old person as she holds on to the car.
“Let me help you—”
“I need to get Mirabella.”
“I’ll get her.” The soft part of me that I thought was gone works its way up, making me consider getting her to a bedroom so she can rest. She’s hurt and exhausted.
But I know Alessandro would be pissed if I didn’t bring her to him first.
And I don’t want to be soft.
Not for the woman who left me without a word.
Eva limps beside me, leaning on my arm while I carry Mirabella, who's fallen back asleep.
The weight of the child against my chest stirs more softness, as well as jealousy.
This, carrying a sleepy child into our home with Eva at my side, should have been mine. I harden my expression, burying the thought.
"Sir," one of the guards addresses me at the entrance.
“Tony, is he in his office?”
“Yes, sir.”
Eva freezes against me. "Adriano, please—"
"It's not negotiable.” I guide her forward, fighting the urge to comfort her like I once would have.
I push open the door to Alessandro’s office without knocking.
Alessandro sits where our father once did, paperwork spread across the desk, his eyes lifting at our entrance.
Eva stumbles beside me, her body going completely rigid.
The color drains from her face as she stares at my brother. "You're… not Don Dante.”
Alessandro's expression hardens as he takes in Eva and the sleeping child in my arms. His gaze flicks to me, questioning and wary.
"A lot has happened since you disappeared," I tell Eva, guiding her to a chair before she collapses and then handing Mirabella to her. "My father was murdered. Alessandro is Don. I'll catch you up on the rest later."
The relief that washes over her face is unmistakable.
Why would my father's absence bring her such comfort?
Another mystery to add to the growing pile of questions surrounding her return.
My brother stands, buttoning his suit jacket as if he needs the moment to gather his composure. "Eva Santoro. I thought we buried you."
“You tried,” she murmurs, but it’s followed with a more forceful. “No.”
He glances again at the child, then at me, his eyes questioning.
“She and the child need protection—”
“No.”
"What?" I step forward in defiance.
"I said no." Alessandro's voice drops to the dangerous tone that makes even the most hardened criminals reconsider their life choices. "We're not harboring her."
White-hot anger flares inside me. "I didn't ask for your permission."
"This isn't a discussion, Adriano." Alessandro circles the desk. "The woman disappears, lets us think she's dead for years, then conveniently reappears when the Bratva is gunning for us?"
"They're hunting her," I growl. "I witnessed it myself."
"Perhaps that's exactly what they wanted you to see."
“I’m happy to leave—”
I whip around and glare at her.
Mirabella stirs, her eyes going wide as she takes in the new location and the scowl on my brother’s face.
“Tony!” Alessandro bellows.
Tony pokes his head in. “Boss?”
“Please take Ms. Santoro and the child to the kitchen so I can talk with Adriano privately. I’m sure Mrs. Gallo can find something for them to eat.”
For a moment I think Eve is going to protest, but then she rises, a bit steadier now, and nods. I suspect she hopes to find an escape.
“Keep an eye on her,” I say to Tony, who nods and guides Eva and Mirabella out of the office.
When we’re alone, Alessandro says, "Don't make me remind you of your place."
My eyes narrow.
For the first time, I feel like what I imagine my brother Luca felt as the family turned against him.
I’d blindly sided with our father and later, Alessandro. Now I feel bad about it.
Alessandro takes a breath. "She'll be the death of you."
"She's already been the death of me once. What's one more time?"
“I don’t really give a shit who you want to fuck, except that woman.”
I step closer, invading his space, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. “I've been loyal to you my entire life. I've never asked anything of you, Alessandro. Not once. I've been your enforcer, your soldier, your brother."
“You’ve done your duty—”
I scoff. “You’re a real motherfucker sometimes, you know that?
” I study him, wanting to talk with my brother, not my Don.
But he’s determined to be the Don. “Have you noticed we're down two siblings? Luca and Valentina are living in Chicago, building their own lives because you’re an insecure shit. Maybe you need to stop thinking only of yourself for once unless you want to alienate me too.”
His eyes flare with heat. “Watch yourself. Father kicked Luca out. That wasn't my doing.”
“Right, like you’d have let him stay if he wanted to—”
“He doesn’t want to. He has his own business.” He moves behind the desk, pulling open a drawer. “I hoped I wouldn’t have to show this to you, but you’ve given me no choice.” He withdraws an aged manila folder and drops it on the desk between us.
“What is it?” I ask, a heaviness growing in my stomach. I have a feeling I’m not going to like this.
"After Father died, Luca and I found this in his private safe. It's a list of people our father thought were working with the Russians.”
My stomach drops as Alessandro flips the folder open. Page after page of names, some I recognize, others I don't.
"I didn't see the point in rehashing painful memories." Alessandro flips to a page near the back and turns the folder toward me. My blood freezes in my veins.
There, in our father's unmistakable handwriting, Eva Santoro
I stare at the name, unable to process what I'm seeing.
"This is bullshit," I snarl, deciding it’s ludicrous. It has to be because the alternative is that she used me. "Why would he think she was with the Russians? She worked here. She was with me."
"Was she?" Alessandro's voice is quiet now. "Think, Adriano. Father was killed by the Russians. He knew something was up and was trying to ferret out the source.”
“We killed the source—”
“One, maybe.” He points to the list. “A few here, Luca took out last year. But Eva? A Russian tips you off about her? That’s suspicious, you must agree.”
I should agree because he’s right.
"There can only be one explanation," Alessandro says, watching me carefully. "Father strongly suspected her of betraying the Family."
I shake my head, unwilling to accept it. "No. Eva wouldn't…"
But even as I deny it, pieces begin falling into place.
The tip handed over by a Russian soldier who had no reason to be fucking around in our territory.
Almost like he was planted there to give me the tip.
Finding her fairly easily.
Too easily.
They knew where she was.
And the Bratva hunting her.
Was that a setup too?
Were they supposed to kill me?
Or was I supposed to save her and bring her back into the fold so she can spy some more?
"You're wrong," I insist, but the conviction in my voice wavers. "There has to be another explanation."
Alessandro closes the folder. "For your sake, I hope there is. But until we know for certain, she's a threat."
I turn away, my mind racing. When I face him, I say, “Bring her back here. Ask her.”
His eyes narrow. “She won’t admit to betraying us.”
“That never stopped us from interrogating someone. Bring. Her. Back.”
He nods, picking up his phone and telling Tony to bring Eve back to his office.
Moments later she steps in, Mirabella still in her arms. Fuck, the kid doesn’t need to see this.
“Why don’t I ask someone to take her—”
“No.” Eva’s eyes go wild and she clings to her daughter. “She stays with me.”
“Sit,” Alessandro orders her.
Eva sinks into the chair, her eyes darting between us.
Alessandro goes straight to the point. “Explain why you’re on a list my father made of people who were betraying the family by working with the Russians?”
She glances at me.
"He believed you betrayed the family. Was he right?" I hate how badly I want this to be wrong and how terrified I am that it’s right.
The color drains from Eva's face. For a moment, she looks like she might deny it, might spin another lie. Then her shoulders slump.
"He questioned me," she says quietly. "Four years ago. He'd been watching me for weeks. He was convinced I was selling secrets to the Bratva."
"Were you?" Alessandro demands.
"No!" Her eyes flash with defiance.
My fists clench at my sides. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I was trying to protect you! I know what happened to Luca. I begged him to believe me, but he wouldn’t even though he had no proof. Finally, he gave me a choice—leave and never come back, or die."
The words knock my world off balance. My father, the man I respected, had threatened the woman I loved without even telling me.
"He didn't even care when I told him I'd just found out I was pregnant.” Eva bats away the tears that fall as if she hates that she’s crying.
“What?” My world was already upended twice today. It seems impossible that it's again tumbling over. “Who? Who the fuck were you—”
Her head jerks back as if shocked by the question. “You! It was you, and he didn’t care.”
I stagger back, something I never do. Nothing has ever rocked my world like hearing she was pregnant by me and my father knew and still threatened to kill her.
"Your father ordered me to disappear even after I told him I was carrying his grandchild."
"Are you saying…" I can barely form the words. "Mirabella is my daughter?"
Eva nods, her gaze never leaving mine. "Yes. There's never been anyone else, Adriano. Never."
My world stops. Crashes. Rebuilds itself in an instant.
I have a child. A daughter.
“This could be total bullshit,” Alessandro warns me.
I stare at Eva, speechless, as a tidal wave of emotions crashes through me.
Rage, betrayal, shock, at her and my father.
But there’s something else.
When I turn my attention to Mirabella, warmth fills my chest. I see it now.
The gray eyes are similar to mine.
A fierce need to protect grows.
Nothing, not Alessandro, not Eva, will keep me from my child.