Page 58 of His Son's Ex

My mother settles into her leather chair, fingers steepled beneath her chin. The warm desk lamp softens the fine lines ofage on her face but her eyes remain sharp—keen and calculating—untouched by time or grief.

“You’re uneasy, Dante,” she observes.

I roll my shoulders, trying to shake off the tension. “You know why,” I reply. “Eva’s in there on her own.”

She smiles warmly, and I know that look all too well. It hits me instantly—this was intentional. She left Eva with Linda, Luca, and Sarah on purpose.

I sigh, dragging a hand down my face. “You’re testing her.”

“Of course I am,” she says calmly, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I want to see how she handles herself.”

I shake my head. “I get it, but it doesn’t mean I like it.”

“I didn’t ask you to join me to talk about the little spat that happened back there. I want to talk about the Lombardis.”

I fall silent, bracing for whatever she’s about to say.

She leans forward, her eyes sharp. “I told you I was going to dig deeper into the Lombardi’s affairs and I have. You’re aware they come from the old country, but they’ve never grown as powerful as our family has, until they made certain alliances during the war.” Her voice drops, reflecting on those violent days. “They lost quite a few men. So did we.”

She continues, “Vito Lombardi has never been as ruthless as some of our other rivals, but he’s cunning and smart. And always underestimated. After the war, he tried to go legit, but with limited success. Gianni, however, seems determined to push boundaries in a bid for greater power.”

I nod. “He’s made that much clear.”

The look in her eyes turns to pity. “Yes, well, apparently Gianni thinks humiliating you in public or forcing you to stand down is his path to glory. Meanwhile, Vito is backing him, if only to keep up appearances, as a reminder that the Lombardi’s aren’t weak.”

I think of Vito threatening me in front of my apartment and my jaw tightens. “They nearly started a war right there in my neighborhood. They didn’t give a damn who got hurt.”

A shadow crosses her face. “I know. I’ve arranged a private meeting with Vito. On our turf, of course. He’ll come to me. If he’s half as smart as I suspect, he’ll keep Gianni on a leash for the evening.”

My stomach clenches. “I’m not comfortable letting you face Lombardi alone. He’s proven he’ll resort to anything.”

A small, wry smile tugs at her lips. “I’m well aware. But rest assured, I won’t be alone. Our best security detail will be accompanying me, and the meeting is set in one of our safest locations.” She lifts a hand when I open my mouth to argue. “I’m not asking for your permission, Dante. I’m telling you. This is what must be done.”

I press my lips together, not trusting myself to speak. She knows me all too well.

Her voice softens. “Dante, you’ve told me more than once you’re tired of the violence. That it’s a ‘new age’ and you want to keep blood off the streets.That’s what you need to focus on.”

“That’s easier said than done. Gianni’s irrational and out of control. They’re pushing me. Hard.”

She nods. “Which is why I will talk to his father. The old man has his pride, but he’s no fool. He knows he can’t win an all-outwar against the Bellacinos. We’ll appeal to whatever sense he has left. And if that fails…” She lets the words fade, the implication clear.

I let out a frustrated sigh. “If that fails, we do what we have to.”

She nods solemnly, acknowledging the dark truth. “Yes.”

For a moment, neither of us speaks. The only sound is the faint tick of the grandfather clock in the corner. Eventually, she taps a polished fingernail against the desk.

“Dante, I need you to trust me on this. Support is crucial. If our family sees I’m endorsing a less violent approach, they’ll follow suit, at least for now. But you must keep your anger in check.”

“I can do that,” I say through gritted teeth.

She studies me a moment. “You’d better. Because we have bigger battles to fight, and if we waste our energy on petty feuds, we’ll risk losing everything we’ve built.”

My stomach knots. She’s right. As much as I want to crush Lombardi, risking open war would destabilize our family. The older I get, the more I realize how delicate our empire is—one wrong move could topple it.

I can’t let that happen.

My mother leans back in her chair, folding her arms elegantly. “Now, let’s talk about what else you brought home tonight.”

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