Chapter 25
ADRIANO
I watch Eva's face as I gather Mirabella's few belongings, the girl still sleeping peacefully.
Normally, I don't mind being the villain in someone's story when they've earned it. I've made men beg for death before they received it.
I've broken bones without blinking. I've been the monster parents warn their children about.
And Eva?
She deserves every bit of my rage.
She let me believe she was dead, raised my daughter without me.
Then, when I finally found her, she ran again, taking Mirabella from me a second time.
So why does it feel like I'm being gutted when I see the fear in her eyes?
I shouldn't care.
I should be immune to her tears, to the way her hands shake as she helps me pack our daughter's clothes.
I've hardened my heart against enemies far more formidable than this woman.
Yet something about Eva Santoro still seeps into my soul, finds the places I thought were dead, and makes them live again. Even knowing what she's done, what she might still be hiding, I want to protect her. To keep her safe.
I wish I could stop caring. It would be easier to hate her.
To protect myself, I do my best to avoid her. Don’t look at her. Don’t talk to her. I put all my focus on Mirabella.
“Hey, little fairy,” I say, gently waking my child.
Her eyes flutter open. When they see me, they alight with a sparkle that makes my heart soar.
“Daddy!” She throws her arms around me. It adds to the resentment that Eva would even think to take this from us.
“Let’s go home, okay?”
“Really?” She looks to Eva over my shoulder. “Can we, Mommy?”
“Of course we can,” I reply. Eva has no say in Mirabella’s life anymore.
With little to pack, we’re in the car and on the way to the airport in less than ten minutes.
I don't spare Eva a glance as we board the private jet. Marco keeps a watchful eye on her while I carry Mirabella, who's still groggy from being woken in the middle of the night.
She perks up when I sit down with her in my lap on the plane. "Is this your airplane, Daddy?" Her fingers press against the window looking out on the darkened tarmac.
"It belongs to the family," I answer. "Have you ever flown before?"
She shakes her head. “I was on a train.”
I glance at Eva then, catching her watching us with a guarded expression before she quickly looks away.
As the jet engines roar to life and we take off, Mirabella's eyes widen with excitement as she watches the ground get smaller.
"We're flying, Daddy!” she squeals.
Her joy is infectious, even to a man as hardened as me. When the flight attendant brings her a hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, Mirabella's delight is complete.
It doesn’t change my attitude toward Eva.
If anything, it assures me that I’ve done the right thing in hunting them down and bringing Mirabella home.
Three hours later, we land and begin the drive to the compound.
The sun is just rising as we enter the gates.
A sense of relief falls over me.
There’s no safer place for Mirabella than the Dante estate.
It’s a sanctuary that protects us from all who might try to hurt us.
"We're home," I tell Mirabella as her sleepy eyes blink open.
She fell asleep halfway through the flight.
Eva sits silently beside her, gaze fixed out the window. Her posture is rigid, like she's bracing for impact.
She should be.
Coming back means facing Alessandro, who isn’t going to be happy that I brought her back with me.
I escort them inside, instructing two of my men to remain posted at the door.
I lead them upstairs to Mirabella’s room. "Stay here. Get Mirabella settled."
She nods, not meeting my eyes. "Adriano—"
"Not now." I cut her off. Whatever excuse or explanation she wants to offer can wait. I've got bigger problems to deal with first.
I head downstairs and find Alessandro in his office, hunched over paperwork like our father used to be. The resemblance is uncanny sometimes.
I suppose if Alessandro ever marries, his son will grow up and do the same. I’m humored by that thought.
I can’t imagine Alessandro ever marrying, at least not for love. I suppose he’d do it for duty.
It’s thinking like that that nearly had him marrying our sister, Valentina, off to Maksim.
I clear my throat. “They’re back. Eva and Mirabella.”
Alessandro's pen pauses mid-signature. "I told you I didn't want her in this house."
"I know."
"Yet here she is."
"Here she is," I confirm, pouring myself a drink from his sideboard without asking. I knock it back in one swallow, letting the burn steady me. "Think of her as Mirabella's nanny if it makes you feel better."
His eyes narrow at me. "A nanny we need to guard? A nanny who could be informing Ivan? Don't insult my intelligence."
"I'm keeping her close to find out what she knows," I explain, setting the empty glass down. "The Bratva wants her for a reason. She has information we need."
"And that's the only reason you brought her back? Information?"
His tone makes my jaw clench. "What other reason would there be?"
Alessandro leans back in his chair, studying me. "You tell me."
"She's the mother of my child," I say flatly. "And Mirabella needs her."
"And you?"
"I need answers." It's not a lie, just not the whole truth. But Alessandro doesn't need to know how my heart still lurches when Eva looks at me with those haunted eyes.
He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "This is a mistake."
"Maybe." I shrug. "But it's my mistake to make."
Alessandro doesn't argue further, which surprises me. Instead, he returns to his paperwork. "Keep her contained. And Adriano?"
"What?"
"Remember who she is. What she did." His voice drops. "Don't let her make a fool of you twice."
I nod stiffly and turn to leave. His words follow me down the hallway, echoing what the colder part of my brain already knows. Trust Eva again, and I'm asking to be betrayed.
Over the next few days, I establish a routine that isn’t dissimilar in action but is altogether the opposite emotionally.
Every morning, I join Eva and Mirabella for breakfast, watching my daughter devour chocolate chip pancakes while Eva picks at her food, eyes darting to me when she thinks I'm not looking.
I'm always looking.
When I’m not working, I’m with Mirabella, pushing her on the swing while Eva watches from a nearby bench, or playing fairy land while Eva quietly cleans up the room.
I catch Eva smiling sometimes when Mirabella laughs. Those smiles are dangerous to me. They remind me of before, when I believed Eva was mine.
At night, I read Mirabella bedtime stories while Eva brushes her hair, our fingers occasionally brushing as we tuck her in.
The electricity between us hasn't died, and it’s fucking frustrating.
"Thank you," Eva says one night as we close Mirabella's door.
"For what?"
"For not letting our problems affect how you treat her."
I step back, creating distance. I hate how she turns everything into my being a bad guy. “Our problem isn’t her fault.”
“No, they’re mine.”
“That’s right. And just to be clear,” I say, leaning forward again so she knows I mean business, “don't mistake my love for our daughter as forgiveness for you."
Her face falls, and something inside me twists with satisfaction even as another part aches.
This boundary is necessary, I remind myself.
During the day, I work, throwing myself into Dante business with renewed focus. Alessandro watches me with skeptical eyes but says nothing more about Eva's presence. He can be a real ball-buster, but I know deep down, he respects and trusts me.
At night, I lie awake, remembering how it felt to hold her, to believe her lies.
Occasionally, I consider that I’m being too hard. I know she’s had a difficult four years.
But then I replay how she’d lied about dying. How she’d kept knowledge of my child from me.
How’d she’d run from my bed after I’d offered her the world.
Never again.
When Mirabella asks why Mommy and Daddy don't sleep in the same room like they used to, I tell her sometimes, grown-ups need space.
I'm building walls around my heart, brick by brick. Eva won't breach them again. I won't let her. My daughter deserves my love. Her mother doesn’t.
This is the new normal. Close but separate. Together but apart.
I can live with this. I have to.
I toss Mirabella into the air again, catching her effortlessly as she shrieks with delight. Her laughter is magic, a sound I've quickly become addicted to.
"Again, Daddy! Higher!" She claps her tiny hands.
"One more time," I say, launching her skyward. "Then we build that castle, remember?"
From the corner of my eye, I catch Eva sitting by the window, pretending to read.
She's been doing that a lot lately, keeping her distance while remaining close enough to intervene if needed.
As if I would ever hurt our daughter.
Mirabella tugs at my hand, leading me toward the pile of building blocks I brought home yesterday.
Her little face scrunches in concentration as she explains her elaborate vision for our fortress.
I listen with exaggerated seriousness, nodding at all the right moments.
"The princess lives in the tower," she instructs, placing a yellow block carefully atop our growing structure.
"And where does the dragon live?" I ask.
“Dragons are outside. They’re too big.”
I laugh, catching Eva's gaze as she watches us over her book.
A smile lights her face, making her look like the woman I fell for years ago.
Before the lies.
Before she let me believe she was dead.
Why did she resist this?
We could have been a family.
I swear it’s something she wants.
I see how she looks at me sometimes.
The same heat, the same connection still simmers between us.
Is it really fear of Alessandro? Of the life I lead? Or is there something deeper she's hiding, something that keeps her walls as firmly in place as mine are now?
She holds her secrets even as she watches me and Mirabella with awe, even love, radiating from her. In moments of weakness, I wonder if there’s something salvageable between us. But she’d have to trust me. And I’d have to trust her, and I can’t risk having her break me again.
Mirabella places her small hand on my cheek, demanding my attention. "Listen, Daddy."
"Sorry, Princess. Tell me again."
When I glance toward the window again, I see Eva looking in a different direction, her body stiffening and color draining from her face.
Alessandro appears next to her. They’re speaking, but I can’t make out the words. Knowing Alessandro, they’re not nice words. Perhaps they’re threats. I suppose I need to put more guards out tonight and sleep on the floor of Mirabella’s room in case Eva tries to run again.
"Daddy, you're breaking it," Mirabella protests as my hand inadvertently knocks over part of our creation.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Princess.” I replace the fallen blocks, and for a moment, I wish I could fix my life just as easily.
I’m still pissed at Eva, but I have to consider how difficult it must be to live in a house in which one person isn’t hiding their distrust or willingness to eliminate perceived threats.
As toxic as it is for her, she chose to come back to be Mirabella’s mother.
I should have a talk with Alessandro. Unless he’s learned something new, he doesn’t need to go around intimidating Eva.
She might have secrets, but she’s a good mother.
A woman I loved more than I thought possible.
A woman I can’t seem to stop loving no matter how hard I try.
And just like that, a brick protecting my heart begins to crumble.