Chapter 16
EVA
Over the next few days, I watch Adriano and Mirabella together with a sense of awe at how gentle he can be, at how quickly she took to him.
He teaches her to build a tower of blocks and then with a giggle she knocks them down. He listens to her with total focus as she rambles about fairies.
At breakfast, he cuts her pancakes into perfect little triangles, just the way she likes them.
When she falls asleep against his chest during movie night, his protective arm wrapped around her, I catch him studying her face with wonder.
These moments feel like glimpses into what could have been, what should have been, if I hadn't been forced to run.
The life we were meant to have.
I'm terrified of loving this life we've created.
Terrified because I know how quickly it could shatter if the truth comes out.
It keeps me from fully embracing Adriano and us as a family.
I’m walking on the same dangerous edge that I walked four years ago, except now it’s Alessandro who threatens to expose me.
Who I have no doubt will kill me.
It’s these thoughts that keep me up at night instead of savoring the warmth of Adriano’s body as he sleeps next to me.
Giving up, I slip out from under his arm, careful not to wake him.
I slip my robe on and exit the room.
I cross the hall to where Mirabella sleeps.
She’s curled in a ball around a fairy pillow, dreaming peacefully.
Closing her door, I make my way down the hall.
The house is quiet now.
Even so, I feel like the walls watch me, ready to report back to Alessandro.
Maybe I should go back to bed, but I’d only toss and turn.
Perhaps having a warm glass of milk will help lull me to sleep.
I push open the kitchen door and freeze.
Alessandro sits at the island counter, a glass of whiskey in one hand, papers spread before him.
His head snaps up, gray eyes locking onto mine.
"Eva." My name comes out like an accusation.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude." I step backward. "I'll just—"
"Stay." It's not a request. He gestures to the stool across from him. "Join me."
Every instinct screams at me to flee, but I force myself forward, sliding onto the stool.
"Trouble sleeping?" he asks, studying me over the rim of his glass.
I nod.
“A guilty mind?”
I don’t answer.
He smirks at me. "You know, my brother has always had one weakness."
"And what's that?"
"You." Alessandro watches me, and I feel like he can see to the center of my soul, to the truth.
If that were true, would he be more understanding?
Would he know that I never meant to hurt anyone?
"He's happy," I finally say. "Isn't that what matters?"
"My brother deserves happiness. The question is whether you're capable of giving it to him."
"We're figuring things out," I say carefully. "It's complicated, with everything that's happened."
"Yes," Alessandro says, swirling his whiskey. "A lot has happened in four years. You left him broken. And then suddenly, you're back, with his child, no less."
My skin prickles with unease. "It wasn't my choice to leave."
"So you say." He leans forward. "Tell me about Boston, Eva. Did you enjoy your time there?"
The way he asks makes my stomach drop. "It was just a place to survive."
"Interesting." His hard eyes continue to bore down on me. "Because I have people who swear they saw you in Chicago around that time."
My heart hammers against my ribs. "I moved around."
"Clearly. You know what I find curious? How someone running from the Bratva managed to stay alive for four years. Most don't last four months."
"I was careful."
"Or protected." Again, his tone is accusatory.
"I should get back to bed."
"Not yet." His hand shoots out, not touching me but blocking my retreat. "Let me be clear about something, Eva. Everything about my brother is my business. His happiness. His safety. His loyalty."
"I understand that—"
"No, I don't think you do." His voice drops to a dangerous edge. "I know you're lying. Not just to me, but to him. I don't know what game you're playing, but I will find out."
Fear crawls up my spine. "There's no game."
"Then explain why the Bratva wants you so badly. Explain why your story has more holes than a sieve." He pauses, but I don’t respond.
"I will uncover every secret, every lie. And when I do, when Adriano sees you for what you really are, there won't be anywhere left for you to run."
I clasp my hands to keep them from shaking. “Are you threatening me?"
"I'm promising you." Alessandro stands, towering over me. "If you break my brother again, I won't just let you go. I'll destroy every piece of you until there's nothing left for him to mourn."
"I would never hurt Adriano," I say, even though I know I did and I probably will again. "Not intentionally."
Alessandro laughs coldly. "Says the woman who let him believe she was dead and stole his kid." He leans closer. "I should kill you just for that."
I know the threat isn’t empty. Alessandro isn't his father, but he’s just as protective, just as dangerous.
"You don't understand," I manage, hating how my voice trembles.
"Then enlighten me." His finger taps against the counter as he waits for my response.
But I can't explain. The truth is too dangerous, too damning. Even now, with everything at stake, I can't bring myself to confess what I've done, what I've been running from.
"That's what I thought." Alessandro picks up his glass and drains his whiskey. "You have one week to tell my brother whatever it is you're hiding, or I will. And trust me, my version won't be kind."
He walks past me, his shoulder nearly brushing mine. I flinch, and his mouth curves in bitter satisfaction.
"Sweet dreams, Eva."
I want to run away, but my legs feel like jelly, unable to support me.
My hands shake so badly I have to press them against the counter to steady them.
History is repeating itself.
Different Dante, same impossible situation.
I manage to get my legs under me and return upstairs.
Back in our room, I watch Adriano sleep, taking in every aspect of him.
The tiny scar above his eyebrow that wasn’t there four years ago.
The peaceful expression that only exists in sleep.
I want to climb in bed next to him, confess my sins, and have him still care for me.
Still protect me.
But I know that wouldn’t happen.
He’d feel betrayed.
He might not kill me, but he’d punish me, and now he has the perfect weapon in our daughter.
The urge to run surges through me.
If I stay, Alessandro will either give me the same ultimatum that his father did or he’ll expose me, and Adriano will know everything, how deep my betrayal truly went.