Page 89 of His Nephew's Ex
“A dynasty,” I say. “A legacy worth passing down to him.” I gesture toward Alessandro, who’s making soft sounds against his father’s chest. “A world where he’ll never have to choose between safety and happiness.”
Simeone’s smile is satisfied. “You’ve adapted well to this life.”
“I’ve adapted to you,” I correct. “There’s a difference.”
“Is there?”
“This life, this protection, this beautiful cage—it only works because I trust the man who built it around me.” I lean forward, reaching out to trace the line of his jaw. “Because I know you’re not keeping me here to control me. You’re keeping me here to love me.”
“Every day,” he confirms quietly. “In every way that matters.”
The comfortable silence that follows is broken by Alessandro’s soft crying, and I watch Simeone automatically adjust his hold. The sight still takes my breath away—this dangerous, powerful man reduced to putty in his infant son’s hands.
“You know what I realized last night?” I ask as I prepare Alessandro’s bottle.
“What?”
“I feel safer now than I ever have in my life. Not just because of the security protocols or the guards or the bulletproof glass.” I settle back into my chair, accepting our son as Simeone passes him to me for feeding. “Because I finally understand what it means to belong somewhere completely.”
“You belong here,” he says simply. “Both of you. Forever.”
“I know.” The certainty in my voice surprises even me. “That’s what makes it feel like freedom instead of captivity.”
We fall into the comfortable routine that’s developed over the past months—me feeding Alessandro while Simeone handles morning reports from his operations, both of us stealing glances at our son like we still can’t believe he’s real. This is our world now: contained, protected, absolutely secure within the boundaries of love and choice.
“Stellina,” Simeone says suddenly, setting down his tablet. “I need to tell you something.”
The serious tone makes me look up from Alessandro’s feeding. “What?”
“Things are going to get better,” he says, and there’s something almost boyish in his excitement. “Much better. Starting today.”
“Better how?” I ask, though I’m not sure what could improve on our current situation. “We have everything we need here.”
“We have everything we need,” he agrees. “But you’re going to have something you want.”
“Which is?”
“The chance to return to work if you choose to. Real work, not just remote management.” His eyes brighten with anticipation.“The freedom to move through the city again without my constant supervision.”
I stare at him, not understanding. “Simeone, the security risks haven’t changed. If anything, they’ve increased since Alessandro was born.”
“The risks have remained the same,” he corrects. “But our capacity to handle them is about to expand significantly.”
“I don’t understand.”
His smile turns absolutely devastating. “My best friend is getting out of prison today.”
Simeone has never mentioned having a best friend, let alone one in prison. In all our time together, he’s presented himself as a man who stands alone, who trusts few people beyond his immediate operations.
“Your best friend?”
“Mauricio Barone,” he says, and the name carries weight I can feel even without understanding its significance. “We grew up together in Sicily. Built our first operation together. He’s been serving a fifteen-year sentence for a job that went wrong when we were young and stupid.”
“Fifteen years? He’s been in prison since before we met?”
“Since before I built most of what you see around us.” Simeone’s voice carries notes of old loyalty and anticipation. “But he’s kept his mouth shut, served his time, and in six hours, he’ll be free to help me protect what matters most.”
“Us.”
