Page 77 of His Son's Ex

I watch him go, the echo of his footsteps on the marble gradually fading away. Then I step into our room—my new home, for better or worse—and close the door behind me. The quiet envelops me, and I finally allow myself to relax.

Sinking onto the edge of the lavish bed, I rest my hand over my belly. A surge of protectiveness wells up.I’m going to keep you safe, little one, no matter what Linda or Luca or anyone else says.

I’m not going to let this family scare me off.

With that thought, I lie back against the pillows, letting exhaustion take over.

CHAPTER 23

EVA

Iwake a short while later when I hear the door opening and see Dante stepping in.

“You okay?” he asks as he walks over to the bed. He’s shed his suit jacket and tie, leaving him in a partially unbuttoned, crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up.

I sit up and nod, rubbing my eyes. “About as okay as I can be, considering.”

He brushes the back of his hand gently against my cheek, flicking his gaze to my belly. “Are you feeling alright? Any nausea?”

I shake my head. “No nausea, thankfully. I’m actually kind of craving something sweet, but that’s nothing new.”

“I’ll be right back.”

I blink. “What? Where are you going?”

“I forgot something,” he says, striding toward the door.

I get up and wander over to the window, the cool glass beneath my fingertips as I lean forward and look out over the sprawling estate. The moonlight hits the dimly lit garden just right, bathing everything in silver and soft shadows.

It's breathtaking.

After a few moments, the door opens again. I turn to see Dante holding a bowl, a silver fork resting neatly on top. I’d know that creamy, coffee-scented goodness anywhere.

“Tiramisu?” I raise a brow. “Seriously?”

“My mother always keeps a stash,” he tells me with a smile.

“Thank you,” I reply. “It looks delicious.”

“Dig in.”

I grin and sink onto the bed, taking the fork and diving in. The first bite hits my tongue and I moan, full-on food-gasm style. “Oh my god. This is so good it feels like a crime.”

“We can get you anything you want,” he says, stepping closer, making my pulse skip. “Ice cream, pastries, pickles. Even if it’s three in the morning. You name it, it’s yours.”

I glance up at him, my heart melting. “Careful, Bellacino. You’re gonna make me fall harder.”

He doesn't flinch. “Good.”

The sweetness of it hits me harder than the tiramisu. I lean into him, resting my cheek against his chest. His heartbeat thuds steadily beneath my ear, strong and grounding.

We sit in silence for a moment, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like I can truly breathe.

“Thank you,” I whisper, letting my eyes drift shut. “For letting me stay here. For keeping me safe. For… everything.”

His breath stutters as he tucks his chin over the top of my head. “I’d do anything for you, Eva.” His voice is quiet but resolute. “For both of you.”

My throat tightens at the reference to our baby. “You keep saying that, but I still can’t quite believe it.”

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