Page 53 of His Nephew's Ex
The crude description hits its mark, making heat flood my cheeks with humiliation and rage. “Get out.”
“Get out?” Flavio laughs, the sound sharp and mocking. “From my family’s home?Bambina, I think you’ve forgotten your place in the hierarchy here.”
“My place—”
“Is wherever my uncle decides to put you.” He steps closer, close enough that I can smell his expensive cologne and the malice radiating off him like heat. “Right now, that place seems to be a very pretty prison with very comfortable bars.”
I retreat a step, then force myself to stop. Showing weakness will only encourage him, and I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cower.
“At least I’m not a pathetic little boy playing dress-up in a world of grown-ups.,” I snap. “How’s that working out for you, by the way? Being the family disappointment?”
His expression darkens, and for a moment, I see something genuinely dangerous flicker behind his eyes. Something that reminds me why people fear the Codella name, even when it’s attached to someone as weak as Flavio.
“Disappointment?” His voice drops to a whisper that somehow carries more menace than shouting. “Is that what you think I am? A disappointment?”
“I think you’re a spoiled child who can’t handle being told no.” I lift my chin with the same defiance that once made me march into a mafia don’s office. “I think you’re weak, petty, and so threatened by women who won’t submit to you that you have to resort to stalking and harassment.”
“Weak?” The accusation seems to hit him like a physical blow. “I’ll show you weak, you little bitch.”
The words hang in the air for a split second before he moves—faster than I expected, grabbing my arm with enough force to make me gasp. His fingers dig into my flesh like steel bands, and suddenly I’m reminded of exactly how much stronger he is, how isolated I am in this beautiful fortress.
“Let go of me.” I strain against his hold, but his fingers dig deeper into my arm.
“Not until you understand something.” His face is inches from mine now, close enough that I can see the hatred blazing in his dark eyes. “You think you’re safe here? You think being pregnant makes you untouchable? Think again,bambina.”
“Simeone will—”
“Simeone isn’t here.” The interruption is soft, almost gentle. “And accidents happen to pregnant women all the time. Especially ones who’ve outlived their usefulness.”
The danger hides behind his smooth words, but it’s there—razor-edged and real. Ice crystallizes in my chest as the pieces fall into place: Flavio has moved past wanting me back to wanting me dead.
“You wouldn’t dare,” I breathe.
“Wouldn’t I?” His smile is pure poison. “Uncle Simeone might be infatuated with you now, but what happens when the novelty wears off? When you get fat and demanding and boring? When he remembers that there are plenty of other women in the world who don’t come with your particular... complications?”
“He’s not like you—”
“He’s exactly like me.” Flavio’s grip shifts higher on my arm, and I know there will be bruises tomorrow. “We’re Codellas,bambina. We take what we want and discard what we don’t need. And when my uncle gets tired of playing house with his little breeding mare, I’ll be waiting to clean up the mess.”
The casual way he discusses my potential murder makes my vision blur with terror and rage. But underneath the fear runs something else—a cold, calculating fury that reminds me exactly why I survived my father’s abandonment and my mother’s death. Why I built a business from nothing and held my ground against every threat that came before Flavio.
I’m not some helpless victim waiting to be rescued. I’m a woman who’s fought for everything she’s ever had.
“Get your hands off me,” I say quietly, letting every ounce of that cold fury bleed into my voice. “Now.”
“Or what?” He leans closer, his breath hot against my cheek. “You’ll scream? You’ll fight? You’ll run crying to Uncle Simeone about how mean I was to you?”
“Or I’ll remind you exactly why your uncle chose me over you.” I meet his gaze directly, unflinching. “Because, unlike you, I’m not afraid of monsters. I marry them.”
For a moment, uncertainty flickers across his features. Then his grip tightens enough to make me bite back a cry of pain.
“You think you’re so clever, don’t you? So strong and independent?” His voice turns ugly, vicious. “But look at you now. Trapped in this house, dependent on a man who could kill you with his bare hands, carrying a child that makes you nothing more than a vessel for his bloodline. How’s that independence working out for you?”
The words hit their mark because there’s truth in them—painful, inescapable truth about how completely circumstances beyond my control have reshaped my life. But beneath the hurt runs something stronger, more dangerous.
Pride. Defiance. The unbreakable core of who I am beneath all the fear and uncertainty.
“At least I chose my monster, and he chose me,” I say softly. “You, on the other hand? You’re just the mistake nature saddled him with that he’s trying to clean up after.”
