Page 74 of His Son's Ex

On the kitchen counter sits a bullet. Next to it, a folded piece of paper.

I feel the blood drain from my face.

Dante strides over, snatching up the paper. I watch his jaw work as he reads the single word aloud:

Gotcha.

I wrap my arms around myself in an attempt to ease the chill running through my body. “How did they get in? You said your apartment had top-of-the-line security.”

“It does.” He crumples the note in his fist. “Which means they either bypassed it or someone let them in.”

My heart kicks against my ribs. “What now?”

He turns to me, his eyes dark. “We’re not staying here tonight. We’re going to my mother’s estate.”

“Your mother’s?”

He nods. “More guards, more layers of security. Eyes everywhere. No one’s getting in without an army.”

I fight back another round of tears. “I’m pregnant, Dante. I can’t keep running.”

He takes my hand and squeezes it gently. “You won’t have to,” he assures me. “Whoever’s behind this, we’re going to find them and deal with them. You and our baby will be protected. I swear to you on my life.”

Despite the dread coiling in my stomach, his words soothe me. Back in the car, I nestle against him as the driver heads east, out of the city.

CHAPTER 22

EVA

Isabella is waiting at the top of the stone steps when we arrive. She stands poised, wearing a sleek black dress, instantly making me feel too casual in my comfy jeans and sweater. She offers me a reserved nod.

“Eva,” she says, polite but cool. “Welcome.”

Dante stands beside me, placing a reassuring hand on the small of my back. “Mother,” he greets. “Eva and I will be staying here until things die down, as we discussed. I trust our room is ready.”

“Of course,” Isabella replies, gesturing for us to follow her inside.“I’ve had the staff prepare a suite in the east wing. I assume that’s acceptable?”

Dante give a curt nod.

I’d been so nervous the night of the dinner that I hadn’t really been able to take in the sight of the Bellacino mansion. It’s magnificent.

We head up a sweeping staircase, portraits of stern-faced ancestors along the wall. Vases filled with fresh flowers sit on marble stands along the corridor.

“This is your room,” Isabella announces as she stops outside a set of polished wooden doors leading into a large, elegant suite. There’s a sitting area with a fireplace, a four-poster king bed covered in silken linens, an ensuite, and a balcony overlooking a sprawling garden lit up with evening lighting.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper.

Isabella gives a gracious nod, her eyes flicking briefly to my midsection. I tense, wondering if her mother’s intuition senses my pregnancy. I wait for her to say something, but she doesn’t.

Instead, she turns to Dante. “There’s a family meeting in the main dining room in an hour. We expect your presence. And Eva’s,” she adds with a cool finality that suggests it isn’t really a request.

Dante nods. “Understood.”

She turns and leaves the room, her footsteps echoing down the hall. “She’s intense.”

He smiles wryly. “That’s one way to put it. You’ll be fine here.” He steps closer, lowering his voice. “Text me if you need anything. I’ll be in my office making some calls before the meeting. The staff will bring up our bags. In the meantime, try to relax and get some rest.”

I try to muster a smile as he gives my arm a gentle squeeze before walking away.

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