Page 51 of His Son's Ex

I stare out the window, watching the city go by in a blur. I tried to be civil. I tried to talk sense. But they’ve made it clear they see that as weakness.

So be it.

“They took their shot,” I murmur. “Now it’s my turn.”

I pull out my phone. A text from Eva lights up the screen. Probably something playful and sweet. I can’t bring myself to open it yet.

Because when she learns how close I came to killing those men—or being killed myself—she’s going to look at me differently.

I close my eyes, willing the fury to dissipate.

I promised her I’d try to be better, to be the bigger man.

But being the bigger man doesn’t always equal survival in this world.

At least, not for long.

CHAPTER 13

DANTE

Ienter the quiet foyer of my mother’s Long Island estate, the soft click of my dress shoes on polished marble echoing in the silence. I’ve spent most of the day tamping down my anger, scheming how best to retaliate against the Lombardis for last night’s actions.

Now, I need her perspective.

A staff member leads me through the halls to the lavish sitting room where my mother waits with her usual unflappable grace. As I enter, she sets aside a porcelain teacup, fixing me with a level gaze.

“Dante,” she says, motioning for me to sit beside her on a plush sofa. “You look like you’ve been chewing nails. Come.”

I manage a tight smile as I slip out of my coat. “Believe me, I’ve considered it.”

She arches a brow, gesturing for the staff member to pour me tea. I’d prefer whiskey, but I know better than to alter her hospitality.

“Tell me everything,” she says simply.

“I tried to speak with Gianni Lombardi. Extend an olive branch, so to speak. His father intervened. They cornered me outside my apartment last night.”

She pales slightly, though her expression remains stern. “How bad?”

I shrug, rolling a shoulder to test the bruise left by one of Gianni’s goons. “Nothing I can’t handle. They threatened me. Held a gun to my head in front of innocent bystanders—kids, older folks, neighbors. Lombardi Sr. demanded I back off or he’d escalate.”

Her lips purse. “Vito. That old bastard.”

I nod, my anger seething just below the surface. “I was tempted to make an example of them right then, but there were too many civilians around. If I’d opened fire, it would’ve turned into a massacre.”

She frowns. “The Lombardis knew you wouldn’t risk collateral damage. They used the knowledge as leverage.”

“Exactly.” I recall how close it came to turning ugly. “I want my pound of flesh, Mother. This is the second time they’ve insulted us—first the wedding, now ambushing me on my own turf. I’ve tried to keep it civil, but I’m running out of patience.”

She nods slowly, gathering her thoughts. “I remember you telling me you’d attempt diplomacy for that girl’s sake. Eva, is it?”

My chest tightens at the mention of Eva. “Yes, but it’s not just about her. I want this city stable. Eva hates bloodshed, and Ipromised her I’d try to be better than the savage rumors she’s heard about me.”

She casts me a quick, knowing look. “You’d do well to keep her trust, but you cannot appear weak. People like Lombardi see kindness as a sign of frailty.”

“I need to retaliate, but in a way that avoids unnecessary bloodshed. I’m trying to avoid a war, but Lombardi is making it difficult.”

She sighs, picking up her teacup and taking a measured sip. “I know the Lombardi’s. They’re proud, but their finances are precarious. We’ve seen that over the years, haven’t we?”

---