Chapter 11
ADRIANO
I stare at the ceiling, unable to sleep. The taste of her still lingers on my lips.
Fuck.
I tell myself it's just physical, memories of what we once had.
She said it herself, she’s a different person, and she sure as shit is because the woman I knew wouldn't have let me believe she was dead, wouldn't have kept my daughter from me.
I’m forced to consider that I never really knew her.
Alessandro's suspicions echo in my head.
Our father may have been a monster, but his instincts were rarely wrong.
If he suspected Eva of betrayal…
I’m a fool for having chased her thinking I’d find what we’d had four years ago.
Instead I found a woman who purposefully broke me, kept my child from me, and has more secrets she’s hiding.
I need to keep my anger and distrust of her close at hand if I’m to keep from falling under her spell again.
I wake the next morning after a restless night. Still pissed at all that’s transpired, I turn my focus into being a father. I think back to Luca when he learned he was Enzo’s father. For an unpredictable, volatile man, he fell into fatherhood seamlessly. Can I do the same?
I’m determined to protect Mirabella, no matter what Eva wants.
I’m going to start by getting to know her and making a place for her in my heart and in my home.
And if Alessandro gives me shit, well, maybe I’ll move to Chicago like Luca and Valentina.
I dress in jeans and a T-shirt, planning to take the day off.
Then I make my way to the kitchen for coffee.
I carry my coffee to Alessandro’s office, not bothering to knock.
He looks up from paperwork.
“I’m off today to get to know my kid. I’m giving her the guestroom next to my room.”
Alessandro arches a brow. “You’re pretty full of yourself giving me orders.”
“I’ve given my life to this family. The least you can do is give me this.”
He sits back in his chair. “You act as if I haven’t given my life to this family.”
I shrug. “You don’t have anything else. But hey, if you fall in love or find you have a kid, I’ll support you in taking time to—”
He laughs. “That’s not happening. And I’m not going to come between you and your child, but I have to reiterate that Eva can’t be trusted.”
I nod, letting him know I understand and even agree.
“Has she said anything?”
“Beyond our father threatened her? No. But if there’s something there, I’ll find out.”
He studies me for a moment. “And what if he was right? What if she was one of the several Bratva plants in the family?”
My jaw tightens.
Anyone else, I’d kill them.
But it’s Eva.
Can I kill her?
The mother of my child?
I hope I won't have to find out. “I’ll do what needs to be done.”
With that, I walk out, turning my mind to Mirabella.
I've never decorated a child's room. Never thought I'd need to.
But I pull out my phone and begin scrolling and ordering everything a three-year-old girl might want.
Dolls.
Books.
A nightlight shaped like a star.
Pink sheets with unicorns.
Fuck, I don't know what she likes.
But I should. I should know her favorite color, when she had her first steps and spoke her first word.
I blame Eva that I don’t know these things, but I push it away, determined to learn them now.
I head upstairs to Valentina’s old room where I put Eva and Mirabella last night.
I knock on Eva's door, hating that my heart is racing like a fucking teenager at the idea of seeing Eva again.
Eva opens the door, looking softer than yesterday.
Sleep has brought color back to her cheeks.
“We need to talk,” I say, pushing past her into the room. I see that breakfast trays were brought up and it appears they’ve both eaten.
Mirabella sits perched in the window seat, her small face turned toward the garden where birds flit between branches.
For a moment I watch her, in awe of how her eyes light up as she looks upon the world.
I never see wonder in the world anymore, but I’m feeling it now.
"Has she said anything?" I ask Eva quietly. "About my being her father?"
She shakes her head. “No, nothing."
A sense of rejection tightens my chest.
Maybe she doesn’t want me as a father.
Who knows what Eva has told her about me.
“But she was mostly asleep and can’t always keep up on adult conversations,” she says as if she read my mind.
I watch my daughter, her small fingers pressing against the window glass when a blue jay lands on a nearby branch.
"We need to explain it to her now," I say. "I don't want to waste another day."
Eva seems to consider arguing but then nods. "Okay.”
I take a deep breath, preparing for the most important introduction of my life.
Eva calls Mirabella over, patting the bed for her to sit.
My heart is jack hammering in my chest, but this time it doesn’t have to do with Eva.
It has to do with Mirabella and whether she’ll accept me as her father.
"Remember how I told you stories about your daddy? How he was very brave and strong?" Eva starts, surprising me by her depiction of me.
Mirabella nods. “And handsome.”
Eva glances at me, her cheeks flushing pink. “Yes, and handsome. Well, Adriano… he’s your daddy.”
Mirabella studies him.
Even from a three-year-old, the scrutiny is unnerving.
I clear my throat. "Hello, Mirabella."
Her face scrunches up. "You're very big."
"I am," I manage, unsure what else to say. Is that good or bad?
"Mommy said you were far away."
My throat tightens. "I was. But I didn't know about you. If I had…" I look at Eva, unable to hide my resentment. "If I had known, I would never have been far away."
Mirabella tilts her head, her continued scrutiny making me sweat.
What is she looking for?
What does she see?
A monster?
A stranger?
I fight the urge to fill the silence, instead waiting to let her process.
But holy shit, this need for her approval is terrifying.
“You saved us from the bad men.”
I swallow, carefully kneeling down to her level, worried my bigness makes her nervous. “I did. I’m glad I did.”
Mirabella reaches out one small hand and places it against my cheek. “Do we get to live with you now?”
"Yes," I answer without hesitation.
Eva stiffens beside me. "Adriano, We haven't discussed—"
"There's nothing to discuss." I cut her off, keeping my voice level for Mirabella's sake even as anger begins to simmer. "The Bratva wants you. They will never stop hunting you. And now that I know about my daughter, do you honestly think I'll let you take her and disappear again?"
Eva's eyes flash. "You can't just decide our future like that."
"Like you decided mine when you let me think you were dead. Like you decided Mirabella's when you denied her a father?"
"I was protecting her—"
"You were running. That's what you do, Eva. You run. From the truth, from consequences, from me." It’s fucking hard not to yell. "You stole years I can never get back.”
Eva flinches, but I don't stop.
"So forgive me if I'm not particularly concerned about your feelings on where you should live. As far as I'm concerned, your judgment has been suspect from the start."
Mirabella’s brow furrows as she uses both hands to turn my attention to her. “Are you mad?”
I suck in a breath. “I want to be your father. I don’t want to miss any more of your life.”
She slips from the bed and tucks herself next to me.
My heart swells.
This little action fills me with intense emotions I’ve never felt.
I glance up at Eva. "I'll make this simple. You want to leave when this is over? Fine. When you've told me exactly why the Bratva wants you dead, when Ivan Vasiliev is no longer breathing, you can walk away. But Mirabella stays with me."
Eva’s eyes widen and her face goes pale. "You can't take her from me."
"I'm not taking anything. I'm reclaiming what was stolen." I brush a strand of hair from Mirabella's forehead, marveling at how something so delicate could come from me. "She deserves stability, protection. A home where she isn't constantly running."
Mirabella looks between us, I’m sure sensing the tension. “Can we stay, Mama?”
I see the maternal ferocity in Eva’s gaze. It’s not so different from the protective instinct raging through my blood.
“We’ll stay for now,” Eva says, more to Mirabella than me.
But what choice does she have?
The fact that I can see in her eyes calculations on when and how to escape tells me that she’s still hiding something.
Otherwise, wouldn’t she be happy to be safe under Dante protection?
I want to grill her now about what's been going on, but my priority now is Mirabella.
"Do you want to see a surprise?" I ask Mirabella.
"What kind of surprise?"
I rise and hold out my hand, unsure whether she'll take it. But after a moment's hesitation, her tiny fingers slip into mine.
"I have a room for you. Your very own space." I lead her next door, Eva following close behind us. When I open the door to the empty guest room, Mirabella looks around.
“Where are the toys?”
"It doesn't have anything yet," I explain, crouching down to her level. "That's because I want you to tell me what you like. This room can be anything you want it to be."
Her eyes widen. "Anything?"
"Anything. What do you like best in the world?"
She twists slightly, suddenly shy. "Fairies.”
"Fairies?" I repeat, and she nods with growing enthusiasm.
"They're magic and they have wings and they live in flowers," she explains, her hands moving as she speaks. "And they can hide."
That last line breaks me a little bit. My resentment for Eva grows that she'd put her child—our child—in such danger.
"Then we'll make a fairy kingdom," I declare. "With lights like stars and flowers on the walls."
Her face lights up with a smile that I feel from the inside out. At that moment, I know I would burn the world to ashes to protect this child.
"Fairies are lovely, but what we need are clothes. Everything we own was left behind when we ran,” Eva says.
The thought of Eva and my daughter with nothing but the clothes on their backs sends another arc of anger, although I’m unclear at whom.
The Bratva for forcing them to run with nothing?
Eva for not trusting me?
Myself, who should have found her sooner and protected her and Mirabella.
"I'll arrange for you to go shopping today. Whatever you need, it's covered.”
"Thank you."
“But Mirabella stays with me.” I swear I can see the wheels turning in Eva’s mind, plotting her escape.
"Adriano—"
"It's not negotiable, Eva. I've missed three years. I'm not missing another minute."
Eva's eyes flash with fire. "You think I'll run."
It's not a question. We both know the answer.
"Can you blame me? Running seems to be your specialty."
She flinches, but I don't back down. Trust is earned, and right now, hers is in deficit.
“And like I said, I have three years to catch up. Don’t try to keep me from getting to know my daughter.”
Eva looks between me and our daughter. "She doesn't know you."
"And whose fault is that?" I snap. Recognizing I might scare Mirabella by calling out her mother, I soften my voice, giving my attention to her. "Would you like to stay with me today? We can start planning your fairy room. Maybe have ice cream."
Mirabella's eyes widen at the mention of ice cream. “Chocolate?”
“Whatever flavor you want.”
Eva knows she's lost this battle. "Just a few hours. And you'll call me if she needs anything. Promise me."
"I promise." I meet her gaze steadily. "I'll protect her with my life, Eva. That's one thing you never have to doubt." I arrange for Eva to go shopping with Sophia, the house manager, and several men for protection from the Bratva who might be following Eva as well as to prevent her from running.
Until I know why the Bratva wants her, she’s not free from Dante protection.
I take Mirabella to the garden, watching her eyes widen at the expansive grounds.
Her small hand in mine feels like a tether to my heart.
It’s the strangest feeling.
"What do fairies eat?" I ask, pointing to a cluster of wildflowers.
"Honey and dewdrops," she answers without hesitation.
I lift her onto my shoulders, her little fingers gripping my hair. "Should we leave them some?"
Her delighted giggle vibrates through me. "Yes! And they like shiny things too."
We collect smooth stones and arrange them in patterns beneath the roses.
She repositions rocks that don't meet her standards.
"Like this," she insists.
I follow her instructions, laughing at how this feared enforcer is now taking orders from a three-year-old fairy expert.
"What else do fairies like?" I ask, watching Mirabella arrange tiny pebbles in a circle.
"Music. They dance when nobody's looking. Do you dance, Daddy?”
Daddy.
Christ.
The air whooshes from my lungs at hearing the name. “I… ah… no. I never have the opportunity.”
“I can teach you. It’s easy.”
I’d like that, although I imagine the razzing I’ll get from Alessandro and the men. Oh, well. Fuck them.
When she yawns, I sit beneath an oak tree, cradling her against my chest.
"Was I in your tummy?" she asks.
I smile. "No, Princess. You were in your mommy's. But you’re in my heart."
From the minute I learned I was her father, I knew I’d missed a lot.
But the more time I spend with her, I become more acutely aware of just how much.
Not just first steps.
Everything. Everyday.
For three years.
Why?
Why did my father distrust her?
Why didn’t she come to me?
Sure, my father was Don, but I could have done something, including help her escape if needed.
And why after four years would Ivan Vasiliev personally hunt down Eva?
The Bratva doesn't waste resources chasing random women across state lines.
There's something she's not telling me.
Something beyond my father's suspicions.
Eva always had layers.
It's what initially drew me to her.
There was mystery behind her hazel eyes.
But now those secrets threaten not just her life, but our daughter's.
“Fairies know the best hiding places,” Mirabella says out of nowhere.
“Really?”
She nods. “That’s what Mama says.”
My jaw tightens.
This child has spent her life running, hiding, living in fear because of whatever Eva's involved in.
What could be worth putting a child through that?
The urge to find Eva right now and demand answers burns through me. But Mirabella tugs my hand.
“Look.” She picks up a rock sitting next to us under the tree. “This one's for you. It's magic."
"Is it?" I close my fingers around it gently.
"Mmm-hmm. It keeps monsters away."
I swallow hard. "Have you seen monsters before, Princess?"
She nods solemnly. "The bad men."
Something breaks inside me.
What sort of mother is Eva to have forced her child to endure such trauma?
It’s hard to reconcile the woman I knew with the one I’m discovering now.
I will get my answers.
"Well, you don't need to worry about monsters anymore," I promise, hugging her close. "I'll keep them away."
Her small body relaxes against mine, trusting me completely. In this moment, I understand my brother Luca and his crazed devotion to Katerina and Enzo.
How his life became singularly focused on them and the hell with everything else.
I feel that for this child I only just met yesterday.
I’ll protect her from the monsters, and even from her mother, if I have to.