Page 159 of Sweet Deception

“I thought I was protecting you.” He said softly, his voice strained

“I’m going to call my father.”

“And tell him what?”

“None of your business,” I snapped, though the words tasted like poison on my tongue.

My hatred for my father burned hotter than ever. How could he do this? How could he steal my child and think I’d simply accept it?

I picked up my phone, dialing the number I never thought I’d call again. To my surprise, the call connected.

“Anna.” His voice was calm. Gentle, even.

My vision blurred with tears. “May you reap every ounce of the evil you’ve sown.”

“You didn’t call to curse me, did you?”

“My grip on the phone tightened until my knuckles turned white. My stomach churned, nausea rising in my throat. “You stole my baby.” The words barely made it past my lips.

“Of course, Anna. That was the plan all along.”

I gasped, horror constricting my chest. My vision blurred with unshed tears. He spoke as if this was normal. As if I had never mattered beyond my ability to give him an heir.

“You are a monster.” My voice trembled. “I renounce you as my father.”

“The baby is ours, not just yours,” he said flatly. “He is strong and healthy, Anna. I will raise him to be a leader. A bridge between our cartels and the Russians. He will be the key to ending this war.”

My fingers clenched around the phone. “Are you telling me I’ll never see my son?”

“I’m telling you that if you don’t return to Italy within twelve hours, you won’t live to see tomorrow.” He sighed. “Your sister has already told me how much Gleb loves you. If I could avoid killing my own daughter, I would. But you might leave me no choice.”

I ended the call, my hands shaking violently. The pain in my chest was unbearable. Knowing my child was alive should have been a relief. But it wasn’t. Because he wasn’t in my arms.

Gleb’s voice cut through my despair. “I’ll get our son back. That’s a promise.”

“How? Walk into Italy and demand him?” I scoffed bitterly.

He sighed. “Anna, can you stop fighting me? He’s my son too.”

“My father threatened to kill me unless I return to Italy within twelve hours. I can’t even trust you to protect me.”

“Fine. Sign the divorce papers and leave.”

“Really? You already want me gone.”

“I know I failed you, Anna.” He swallowed hard. “But if staying with me only makes you hate me, then maybe you should go. You think I’m doing nothing?” His voice was eerily quiet. “I haven’t slept. I haven’t eaten. I’ve spent the past twenty-four hours calling every contact I have, bribing people, threatening others, sending my men across the country.”

I blinked, taken aback. He did look... drained. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, his normally composed expression now strained.

“I never...” My throat tightened. I had been angry. Desperate. But not once did I truly want to leave him.

“I’m tearing Moscow and Rome apart to get him back,” he continued. “And the only thing I get in return is you looking at me like I let this happen.”

“I had my grandmother killed in the same hospital where our son was taken. I burned the place down to send a message.” His voice was tight and rough.

A muscle in his jaw twitched.

“Gleb...” I whispered.