Page 116 of His Son's Ex

I shrug. “Call it practicality. If my baby and I are going to have any kind of future, I’d rather not spend it ducking bullets. If achieving peace means a Petrov–Bellacino alliance, I’m not going to stand in the way.”

Hope lights up her eyes. “You’re quite formidable, Eva. Truly your father’s daughter.”

Hearing that feels strangely good, but I keep my composure. “So the Russians want me allied with you, and you want me allied with Dante?”

She nods. “That’s correct. But let’s not sugarcoat things. This is also personal. Dante’s been miserable since the night he left you in Chappaqua. He’s tried to stay busy, but we can all see it. He loves you.”

My heart stutters. I shift my weight, trying to look casual. “Well, I’m sure he has bigger concerns.”

Isabella’s brows lift. “He’s had plenty of concerns in his life, but you’re the only one that keeps him up at night.”

I roll my eyes. “Is that supposed to make me swoon?”

A wry grin curves her mouth. “I wouldn’t dare speak for him, but I do think you deserve to know how deeply he cares about you.” She tilts her head toward the door. “He’s in the study, unless you’d prefer to speak here.”

My stomach flip-flops with anxiety and excitement. I open my mouth to respond, but Isabella holds up a hand stopping me, her expression brightening.

“Actually, let me call Dante in. He hasn’t been told you’ve arrived yet. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”

“Okay.”

Isabella presses a button on an intercom near the door, speaking briefly into it. “He’ll be here shortly.”

Anticipation takes over. This is the moment I’ve both wanted and dreaded—facing Dante after everything I’ve learned, everything I went through.

Isabella steps away, giving me space, but I can feel her presence like a quiet ally. I glance around the room, observing the ornate fireplace, the paintings on the walls, looking anywhere but at the door where Dante will appear.

I straighten my posture and smooth my clothes. My heart flutters as I stroke a hand lightly across my stomach.

I can practically hear Isabella’s faint smile behind me, though I don’t look at her. Finally, footsteps approach from the hallway, and my pulse kicks into gear.

He’s here.

I’m not sure if I should run or stand my ground.

I steel myself and lift my chin. I requested this conversation. I’ll be the one leading it this time.

CHAPTER 39

EVA

Dante steps inside, closing the door softly behind him.He’s dressed in a dark suit that fits perfectly, his tie loosened, top few buttons undone. He looks as though he’s spent the day in a flurry of negotiations. Tension lines bracket around his mouth and eyes.

God, he still looks so freaking good even when he’s exhausted.

His gaze narrows, suspicion growing. “What’s going on?”

Isabella and I exchange a quick glance. She gestures for me to speak first, so I clear my throat and turn to face him fully.

“Dante… hi.”

He runs a hand through his thick hair, slightly mussed from the day’s stress. “Hi,” he says slowly. I see a flash of relief in his eyes before worry takes over.“Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” I assure him, holding up a hand. “The baby’s fine. I’m fine. Actually, I’m great.”

He sighs with relief, tension visibly easing from his shoulders. “Okay, good. Then what?—?”

“I made a deal with your mother. Sort of. She and I decided it’s best if you marry me.” I let the words hang, enjoying the momentary flicker of absolute shock on his face. I look at Isabella, who is equally surprised, though she maintains her usual sophistication and poise.

---