Updated Nov 6, 2025 • ~8 min read
I stayed in Lucia’s room longer than necessary. Singing her back to sleep, stroking her dark curls, memorizing the peaceful expression on her face. Because I knew that after tonight, everything would change.
When I finally emerged, Dante was standing by my living room window, hands in his pockets, staring out at the street below. The other man—his bodyguard or associate or whatever—was gone. Just the two of us now.
He didn’t turn around when I closed Lucia’s door softly behind me.
“She looks like you,” he said quietly. “Around the eyes. The shape of her face.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, staying near the hallway. Keeping distance between us. “She has your stubborn streak.”
“Does she.” It wasn’t a question. He turned then, and the look on his face made my chest tight. “What else have I missed, Sofia? First words? First steps? Her first birthday?”
“Dante—”
“Does she know my name? Does she know she has a father?”
“She knows she has a father. I told her… I told her you were far away. That you couldn’t be with us.”
His jaw clenched. “That’s one way to put it.”
The anger I’d been holding back sparked. “What did you expect me to say? That her father runs a criminal empire? That I left because I didn’t want her growing up around violence and blood money and—”
“You left because you were scared.” He crossed the small room in three strides, suddenly too close. “You were terrified of my world. Of what I do. So you ran.”
“Yes!” The word burst out of me. “Yes, I was petrified! I found out I was pregnant the same week I watched your men beat someone half to death in your club’s back room. The same week I overheard a phone call about a shipment that was decidedly not legal. I was twenty-three years old, Dante. I was pregnant. And I was in love with a man who could have me killed for knowing too much.”
Something flickered in his dark eyes. “You think I would have hurt you?”
“I didn’t know what to think! We’d been together six months. Six months of incredible highs and terrifying lows. Six months of you disappearing for days with no explanation. Of strange men showing up at your penthouse at 3 AM. Of you coming home with bruised knuckles and blood on your shirt and refusing to tell me why.”
I was shaking now, three years of suppressed fear and anger spilling out. “I loved you so much it scared me. But I loved our baby more. So I chose her. I chose to give her a normal life. A safe life.”
“In a shitty apartment in Portland?” He gestured around my cramped living room. “Working a job that barely pays rent? Looking over your shoulder every single day?”
“Yes! Because at least here, she’s not a target. At least here, she’s not Dante Marchetti’s daughter. She’s just Lucia. Just a normal little girl who likes dinosaurs and finger painting and—” My voice cracked. “She’s normal, Dante. I gave her normal.”
“You gave her half a life.” His voice was rough. “You gave her a mother who lives in fear. A mother who jumps at shadows. You think she doesn’t notice? Kids notice everything, Sofia.”
The truth of that hit hard.
“And you gave her a father who didn’t know she existed,” he continued. “A father who would have moved heaven and earth to protect her. To give her everything.”
“Everything except safety.”
“You don’t think I can keep her safe?” His voice dropped dangerously low. “You don’t think I would burn this entire city to the ground before I let anything happen to my daughter?”
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” I met his eyes. “The burning. The violence. The endless cycle of revenge and blood. I didn’t want that for her.”
Dante stared at me for a long moment. Then he pulled out his phone, typed something, and put it away.
“What are you doing?”
“Making arrangements.” He moved to my couch, sat down like he owned the place. “You’re packing tonight. Essentials only. We’ll send for the rest tomorrow.”
My blood ran cold. “Excuse me?”
“You and Lucia are coming to New York with me. Tonight.”
“Absolutely not.”
“This isn’t a negotiation, Sofia.”
“You can’t just—”
“Yes, I can.” He leaned back, all casual power and deadly certainty. “My daughter needs protection. You clearly can’t provide it. So I will.”
“We’re fine here. We don’t need—”
“You have a stalker ex-boyfriend who knows your real identity.” Dante’s eyes narrowed. “How do you think I found you?”
My stomach dropped. “What?”
“Someone’s been asking questions about you. Offering money for information. Making inquiries with the wrong people.” He pulled out his phone again, showed me a screenshot. Messages. Requests. All from Luca Sterling’s law firm.
“My people intercepted this three days ago. Your ex has been looking for you, Sofia. And he’s been very motivated. The question is—why?”
I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe.
“So yes,” Dante continued. “You’re coming with me. Because whatever this man wants, whatever he thinks he’s going to do, he’s not getting near my family.”
“He’s just my ex. He’s angry I left, but he’s not—”
My phone buzzed on the coffee table. Both of us looked at it.
Another message from Luca:
I see you have company. Black SUV. Very expensive. Very… connected. Have you told him yet? Or should I?
Dante picked up my phone before I could stop him. Read the message. His expression went deadly calm.
“Who is this.”
“Dante, give me my phone—”
“Who. Is. This.”
“Luca Sterling. My ex. The one I told you about.”
Another message appeared:
Tomorrow. 2 PM. The address I’m sending. Come alone, Sofia. Or I tell Dante Marchetti everything. Including what you REALLY did three years ago.
Dante’s eyes snapped to mine. “What does he mean, what you really did?”
“I don’t know. He’s bluffing. He’s trying to—”
“What does he have on you, Sofia?”
“Nothing! I left you. I had a baby. That’s it. There’s nothing else—”
“Then why are you shaking?”
Because Luca Sterling was a lawyer. A good one. And if he’d been digging into my past, if he’d been asking questions, there was no telling what he might have found. Or what he might have fabricated.
Dante stood, my phone still in his hand. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to pack a bag for you and Lucia. We’re going to get in my car. We’re going to drive to my plane. And we’re going to New York.”
“I have a job. Lucia has school. We have a life here—”
“Had.” His voice was flat. “Past tense. Because as of tonight, your life in Portland is over.”
Tears burned my eyes. “You can’t do this.”
“Watch me.” He softened slightly, just a fraction. “Sofia, someone is threatening you. Someone knows who you are, where you are, and who our daughter is. Do you really want to stay here and find out what he wants? What he’s capable of?”
“We could go to the police—”
“The police can’t protect you from a man with resources. I can.” He stepped closer. “I know you hate my world. I know you think I’m a monster. But I’m the monster who will keep you and Lucia safe. That’s not a threat. It’s a promise.”
“And if I refuse?”
His expression hardened. “Then I’ll take Lucia anyway. I have lawyers, Sofia. Very good ones. And the courts tend to favor the parent who can actually provide security. Stability. A safe home.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
We stared at each other, the distance between us charged with three years of hurt and anger and something that felt dangerously close to the connection we used to share.
Finally, I looked away. “How long?”
“What?”
“How long do we have to stay in New York?”
“Until the threat is neutralized. Until I find out what your ex wants and handle it.”
“Handle it how?”
“You don’t want to know.”
Probably not.
I thought about Lucia, sleeping peacefully in the next room. About the text messages from Luca. About the fear I’d been living with for three years.
Maybe Dante was right. Maybe I couldn’t protect her alone.
Maybe I’d never really been able to.
“I need to call my work,” I said quietly. “Tell them I have a family emergency.”
“Already done. My assistant called an hour ago. You have indefinite leave.”
Of course he did.
“Jade. I need to tell Jade—”
“The friend you called earlier?” He handed me my phone. “You have ten minutes to make your calls. Then we leave.”
I took the phone with trembling hands. Started toward Lucia’s room to pack.
“Sofia.”
I turned back.
Dante’s expression was unreadable. “For what it’s worth, I understand why you ran. I don’t forgive it. But I understand it.”
“And now?”
“Now you’re under my protection. You and Lucia both.” His voice dropped. “And anyone who tries to hurt either of you will learn exactly why people fear the Marchetti name.”
It should have terrified me.
Instead, for the first time in three years, I felt something I hadn’t expected.
Safe.
Chapter 3 Preview: The plane ride to New York. Meeting Dante’s family. And the business deal that changes everything…
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