Chapter 13
ADRIANO
I slam the door to Alessandro's office, not giving a shit whether it startles him.
"Trouble in paradise?" My brother barely looks up from his paperwork.
"She's hiding something." I pace his office, tension coiling through my muscles. "I asked her point blank why the Bratva is hunting her, and she deflected. Again."
Alessandro sets down his pen, giving me his full attention for once. "Told you."
"Don't fucking start. I know you were suspicious from the beginning."
"And yet you brought her here anyway." He leans back in his chair, eyes assessing me. "Question is, what are we going to do about it?"
I stop pacing. "We? You’re the Don.”
“And yet you often forget that.” He gives a light shrug. "Two of us questioning her might loosen her tongue."
The thought of Eva trapped between us, cornered like prey, doesn’t sit quite right.
She's hiding things but she's still the mother of my child.
Still the woman I can’t seem to let go of.
"Someone needs to stay with Mirabella," I say. "Eva doesn't want her waking up alone in a strange house."
Alessandro nods, reaching for the phone. "Maria, go upstairs and tell Ms. Santoro she's needed in my office. Stay with her daughter until we're finished."
"She won't come," I mutter. "She's too damn stubborn."
But five minutes later, the door opens. Eva stands there, wary-eyed, maybe even a bit nervous.
Good.
Maybe she’ll finally tell us what the fuck is going on.
"You wanted to see me?"
Alessandro gestures to the chair across from his desk. "Sit."
She hesitates, glancing at me before crossing the room and sitting.
I stay where I am, leaning against the wall, watching her.
"My brother tells me you're reluctant to explain why the Bratva wants you," Alessandro says. "That ends now."
Eva's spine stiffens. "I've told Adriano what I can."
"Which is nothing," I cut in.
"You're under my roof," Alessandro continues. "Putting my family at risk. Either you tell us what we need to know, or you leave.”
“Without Mirabella,” I add.
Eva's face drains of color. The panic in them makes me feel like shit. “It’s safer for her to stay here. You can’t protect her—”
“I’ve protected her all her life.”
“Until the other night.” I hate that it’s come to this. That she can’t see what I can offer her. That maybe we can get back what we lost. "Choose carefully, Eva. I want to protect you both. But I can't fight what I can't see."
Her gaze moves between us. A mixture of fear and anger and confusion fills her expression.
Alessandro leans forward, his dark eyes boring down on her. "Tell me, Eva, did you enjoy playing my brother for a fool? Letting him believe you were dead while you raised his child in secret? Or perhaps you've been working with the Russians all along, worming your way back into our lives."
He waits a beat, but Eva doesn’t answer.
"It’s convenient that she appears just as our conflict with the Bratva escalates again. How do I know you’re not fucking my brother again as their plant?"
Eva's hands clench in her lap. "I would never—"
"Never what? Lie? Deceive? That's all you've done." Alessandro's eyes are cold. "What would you do if the Russians threatened your daughter? Would you sell us out to save her?"
The question hangs in the air. Eva's attention darts between us. She’s looking more and more like a skittish cat.
"Answer him," I say, needing to hear it from her own lips.
"I…" She swallows hard. "I would do anything to protect Mirabella."
Alessandro slams his palm on the desk. "There. Honesty at last."
“Wouldn’t you do anything?” she asks me.
“I guess I would, including taking her from you, because your time running from the Bratva will run out, Eva. It nearly did the other night. I won’t risk her life. You need to understand that I’m your only hope.”
“You should listen to him.” Alessandro rises, coming around his desk then leaning against it in front of Eva. “You want the Bratva off your tail? You want us to believe you’re not working with them? Then tell us what you know.”
“I don’t know—”
“Don’t lie to me. Not to my face. Not in my house.” Alessandro’s tone sends a chill down my spine, which isn’t easy to do.
Eva flinches, and for a moment, I wonder if she has legitimate fear that Alessandro might hurt her right here and now.
I have no qualms about using violence, except against women or children.
I pull away from the wall. “Alessandro—”
"What did you do for the Bratva, Eva? Why are they hunting you now? Did you steal from them? Betray them like you betrayed Adriano?"
She trembles as she looks to me again for help.
“Or are they after you because you failed to deliver the last time you were here? Was your job to fuck my brother to get inside the Dante family? Is that what you do, Eva, spread your legs to spy on the Dantes?”
“Alessandro.” My tone is a warning, letting him know he’s going too far.
“My father thought you did. And I don’t believe for a moment that he made a deal to let you walk out of here.
I think you figured out he was on to you and you ran, faked your death to hide from all of us.
But the Bratva found you. And now we have you.
And I have no qualms finishing what my father would have started with you. ”
Eva shrinks back, and something in me snaps.
"Back off." I step between them, blocking Alessandro's view of Eva. "You've made your point."
"Have I? Because she still hasn't answered the question."
I lower my voice. "Look at her. She's terrified."
"Good. Fear loosens tongues."
"Not like this. Terrorizing her isn’t going to—”
"Since when do you let pussy cloud your judgment?" Alessandro shakes his head in disappointment.
My jaw tightens and it takes all my strength not to grab my brother by his expensive lapels and slam him against the wall. "One more word, and I forget you're my brother."
Alessandro studies my face, searching for something.
Whatever he sees there makes him step back.
"Fine. Your call. But when this blows up in our faces, and it will, remember I warned you." He walks around the desk back to his chair. "She's your responsibility now. Every consequence. Every death that follows. On your head."
I turn my attention to her, feeling torn.
Her refusal to explain why the Bratva wants her pisses me off.
More so because I want her so fucking bad, but her lack of trust, her deception make me feel like a pussy.
But the fear in her eyes guts me.
This is the woman I was ready to give my heart and soul to.
And despite everything, I know I’d do it again.
All I want to do is keep her safe.
Why won’t she let me?
She sits frozen in the chair, eyes fixed on Alessandro like she’s sure he’s about to whip out his gun and end her there.
"Come on." I extend my hand. "Let's get you back upstairs."
She hesitates before taking it, her palm cold against mine.
We walk in silence out of his office and up the stairs.
My mind is whirling, ruminating over the same thoughts I’ve been having since finding her in that alley.
Why couldn't she trust me?
Four years ago, when everything went to hell, she ran instead of coming to me.
Even now, with her life, our daughter's life, hanging by a thread, she keeps her secrets locked away.
I would have burned the world down to protect her.
Defied my father.
Killed for her.
Hell, I have killed for less.
Instead, she let me believe she was dead.
Let me grieve.
Let me turn into the monster I am today.
And the worst part?
Despite everything, I still want to save her.
When we reach her door, I stop. "Wait."
Eva looks up at me, exhaustion and fear etched into her face.
"We need to talk." I glance at her door, knowing Mirabella is just beyond it with Maria. "Somewhere private."
"I should check on Mirabella—"
"She's fine. This can't wait." I nod down the hallway. "My room. Just for a few minutes."
She follows me reluctantly. I close the door behind us, leaning against it.
I study Eva as she stands in the middle of my bedroom, looking like she might shatter at the slightest touch.
All the rage I felt downstairs has drained away, leaving only exhaustion.
"I'm sorry about Alessandro. He shouldn't have come at you like that."
Eva's shoulders drop slightly. "He has every reason not to trust me."
"Yes." I push off from the door and move closer, careful to keep my movements slow. Non-threatening. "But that doesn't excuse how he spoke to you."
She doesn’t respond.
She stares at me, utterly defeated, and yet, I see a spark of something in her eyes.
Defiance?
Is she still planning on running again?
"We had something real once. Before my father threatened you. Before you ran."
Her lips part, but no words come.
"You trusted me then." I close the distance between us. "Enough to share my bed. Enough to make a child with me."
Her eyes flicker with pain. "It wasn't about trust."
"Then what was it about?" I'm close enough now to catch the faint scent of her. "Because I'm struggling here."
“That was just two young people who were attracted to each other.”
She could stab me in the heart and it wouldn’t hurt as much as those words. “I see.” I laugh derisively as I turn away. “My brother’s right. I am a pussy. Because I was sure I loved you. But I was just someone to fuck, apparently.”
Her eyes flash with pain. “I didn’t say that.”
“Didn’t you? ‘… just two young people who were attracted to each other.’ How else am I supposed to take that?”
She looks down. “I didn’t want to leave, Adriano. I told you the truth. Your father—”
“Was he right about you?” It takes a great deal of effort to keep my irritation in check. “Were you sent here to seduce the youngest Dante—”
“No!” I see the fire in her ignite again. “I wasn’t using you.” After a moment's hesitation, the fire dies, and she sinks down onto the mattress.
"I don't understand why you won't let me help you now," I say, kneeling in front of her so we're eye to eye. "Whatever hold the Bratva has on you, whatever you've done, we can fix it."
She shakes her head. "You can't."
"Try me." I dare to reach for her hand, half expecting her to pull away. She doesn't. "I'm not the same man I was four years ago, Eva. I'm harder. Stronger." I squeeze her fingers. "Let me protect you and Mirabella."
Her lips tremble. "You'll hate me."
"I thought I hated you already," I admit. "When I found out you were alive. That you'd kept our daughter from me."
Her eyes drop to our joined hands.
"But even then," I continue, "even when I want to hate you, I can’t." I tilt her chin up. "Whatever it is, tell me. Trust me."
I can see the war behind her eyes, the moment she begins to crumble.
"I'm sorry too," she whispers, her fingers trembling in mine. "Your father terrified me more than you can imagine. I wanted to believe you could protect me, but…"
"But you didn't trust me enough to try." I can't keep the bitterness from my voice.
She meets my eyes, unflinching. "Would you have chosen me over him? Over your family?"
I want to say yes. Of course I would. Now. But then? Truth is, I’m not sure what I would have done.
"It doesn't matter now," she continues, pulling her hand away. "It's too late for us, Adriano."
Too late? "Bullshit."
Her eyes widen at my tone.
"For four years, I was dead inside. Walking, talking, killing, but dead." I move closer. "Then I see you again, and suddenly, my heart's beating. Blood's flowing. Some of what I’m feeling is anger and betrayal, but also joy and hope. I'm fucking alive."
She shakes her head.
"And Mirabella… She's perfect, Eva. A miracle. I can’t believe a man like me could make something so amazing."
"She is amazing," Eva agrees, a genuine smile breaking through her fear.
"So don't tell me it's too late." I cup her face in my hands, feeling her pulse jump beneath my fingertips. "Not when I just found you both."
I don't wait for her to argue, and she will. So I make it so she can’t. I kiss her.
She makes a small, startled sound against my lips before melting into me.
Her mouth opens under mine, inviting me deeper.
The taste of her is just as sweet as I remember.
My fingers tangle in her hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss as the years between us vanish.
It’s back to her and me and this all-consuming need that pulls us together.
Her hands fist in my shirt, pulling me closer.
I can feel her restraint crumbling, feel the same hunger that's eating me alive.
I break the kiss to trail my lips down her throat, feeling her pulse race beneath my mouth. "Tell me you don't feel this.”
"I never said I didn't feel it," she says on a sigh. “That was never our problem."
I want to ask what our problem had been, but that would put us back where we started and right now, I don’t give a fuck about anything except reclaiming what is mine.