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CHAPTERSIXTEEN
Stefano
The phone vibratesagainst the marble, her name lighting up the screen like an accusation. Like a promise. Like everything I've been waiting for since finding those pregnancy tests discarded in my bathroom.
My fingers hover over the device, the monster in me savoring each ring. Let her wait. Let her feel the weight of every second, every choice that led her to this moment.
I've been staring at traffic camera feeds for hours, searching for any trace of her old car. The crystal tumbler beside my hand is half-empty, the expensive whiskey doing nothing to dull the rage or the want coursing through my veins.
The phone keeps ringing. Insistent. Desperate.
Like she was desperate the night we met again. The night she danced on my stage, pretending to be just another girl looking for work. Just another stranger, not the woman who's haunted my dreams for a decade.
Not the mother of my child.
Not the woman working with an enemy.
The thought makes my hand clench. The design cut into the crystal hurts my fingers, but I barely notice. Physical pain is nothing compared to the war raging inside me.
"Boss?" Tomasso appears in the doorway, ever vigilant. "Our men spotted her near the state line. Should we?—"
I silence him with a look, finally reaching for the phone. My voice, when I answer, comes out cold.
"Ava."
I speak the syllables that have carved themselves into my soul. I let them carry everything—my rage, my hurt, the darkness that's made Chicago whisper my name in fear.
Her breath catches on the other end. I can picture her perfect lips parting, her pulse racing beneath olive skin that still bears marks from my teeth. My possessiveness is written on her body even as she ran from me.
"Stefano..." Her voice breaks on my name. "I...I need?—"
"Help?" The laugh that tears from my throat holds no warmth. "The great Ava D'Amato, asking for help? What would your Fiori masters think?"
Silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken truths, with betrayal and desire.
"They have Tony." The words come out raw, desperate. Real in a way nothing else has been between us. "Please, I don't know what to do. I didn't tell them anything about the club, I swear. I couldn't?—"
"Couldn't betray me?" Ice fills my tone. "But you could fuck me. Could carry my child while plotting my destruction."
Her sharp inhale tells me she didn't know I'd found the tests. Good. Let her feel off-balance. Let her remember exactly who she's dealing with.
“You know?" she whispers.
I lean back, signaling Tomasso to trace the call. "I know the mother of my heir is either very brave or very stupid, running from my protection."
"I was trying to protect you." The words burst from her like she can't hold them back. "The Fioris, they wanted?—"
"I know what they wanted." My voice drops lower. "Just like I know exactly where you are right now. Did you really think I'd let you slip away again? That I wouldn't have eyes on you the moment you left my bed?"
Another silence, this one charged with understanding. Charged with the realization that she's been playing a game she never had a chance of winning.
"Stay where you are," I order. "Tomasso will collect you. And Ava?" I pause, letting the monster show in my voice. "Try to run again, and I won't be nearly this understanding."
I end the call before she can respond, turning to find Tomasso watching me carefully.
My heart beats hard in my chest. I meant the words. They were a promise. A prayer. And a preview of what's to come.
Because Ava might have stolen my heart, might be carrying my heir, but she's forgotten one crucial detail: I am not the man she knew at sixteen. I am not the boy who let her slip away.