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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Stefano

The phone vibrates against 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.

I am the thing that makes Chicago's darkness tremble.

"Boss." Tomasso's voice cuts through the red haze of my thoughts. "Three of our teams are already in position. What's our play?"

I move to the wall of security monitors, studying the blinking dots that mark Ava's location. She hasn't moved since the call ended. Smart girl. Or maybe she finally understands that there's nowhere to run that I won't find her.

"Send Matteo's team to secure the perimeter." My voice comes out steady despite the chaos raging beneath my skin. "No one approaches without my express permission."

"And the Fiori compound?"

"Keep surveillance tight." I pull up thermal imaging of their property, searching for any sign of her brother. "The moment they move Tony, I want to know."

Years of running Chicago's underworld have taught me patience. Strategy. The careful calculation of when to strike and when to wait. But watching Ava's GPS signal pulse on my screens, knowing she's out there, pregnant, vulnerable, makes the monster in me snarl.

Mine , it whispers. Always mine.

"Sir?" Tomasso clears his throat. "About the wedding arrangements..."

"Everything stays on schedule." I trace Ava's location with one finger, remembering how her skin felt under my touch just hours ago. "Have Giuseppe bring the documents to the safe house. And make sure the priest understands the...gravity of the situation."

A marriage certificate. A baby. The perfect chains to bind her to me forever.

The part of me that still remembers love—still remembers the wild boy who kissed her in moonlit gardens—wants to hate myself for this. For using her brother, her child, her desperation against her.

But that boy died with my father and brothers. Now there's only the Monster of Chicago, and he will do whatever necessary to keep what's his.

My phone buzzes as I receive the satellite photos from the Fiori compound. I study them with the detachment that's kept me alive in this business, registering entry points and security rotations. Beside me, Tomasso makes notes in his ever-present phone.

"Their west gate is light," he observes. "Could be an opening."

"Or a trap." I zoom in on the guardhouse. "They'll be expecting us to come for the boy."

"And Ava? She'll want to help?—"

"She'll do exactly as she's told. For once."

The words taste bitter at the memory of how beautifully she played me. How perfectly she slipped past my defenses with those dark eyes and clever lies. Part of me still burns to punish her for that, to show her exactly what happens to people who betray Stefano Rega.

But the bigger part, the part that's been searching for her for ten years, just needs her safe. Needs her close. Needs to make sure she'll never think of leaving again.

"Get me everything on the Fiori brothers' movements for the past month." I straighten my cuffs. "Bank records, phone logs, mistresses, anything we can use."

"Already compiling." Tomasso hesitates. "And if she runs again?"

My heart cramps with pain. Again. No, she will never run again. I can’t stand the loss. I won’t allow it.

"She won't." My voice is steely. "Because this time, she's going to learn exactly why they call me Monster."

My phone lights up with another text from our surveillance team. Ava's still waiting, exactly where I ordered her to be. The sight sends satisfaction purring through my chest.

Soon, tesoro.

Soon she'll understand—every lie, every betrayal, every moment she thought she was playing me has only led her exactly where she was always meant to be.

In my bed. In my life.

Forever.

"Make the calls," I tell Tomasso, moving toward my weapons safe again. "It's time to remind Chicago what happens when someone takes what's mine."

The monster in me roars with approval, tasting victory and violence on the horizon. But beneath the bloodlust, beneath the rage and betrayal, something else stirs.

Hope.

Because maybe, just maybe, trapping her will finally silence the wild boy who's been searching for her all these years. Maybe possessing her completely will heal the wound she left when she disappeared.

This time, she'll stay.

Whether she wants to or not.

* * *

The weapons safe opens silently, well-oiled hinges a testament to frequent use. Each gun, each blade represents a piece of the empire I never wanted, each thing part of the legacy that killed my brothers and broke my mother's spirit.

The legacy I'll pass to the child growing in Ava's womb.

My hands move with practiced efficiency, selecting artillery with the same precision I once used to plan backpacking routes through Thailand. Funny how life works.

"The priest will be ready in three hours," Tomasso reports from the doorway. "Says he can have the paperwork rushed through by morning."

I slide a ceramic blade into my ankle holster. "Have our lawyer draw up the contracts." My voice carries no trace of turmoil. "Full legal custody of the child. All assets in my name. No room for...misunderstandings."

"She won't sign willingly."

"She will." I check my shoulder holster, muscle memory from years of violence guiding each movement. "Once she understands the alternative."

The alternative. Such a civilized way to describe what awaits her if she refuses, if she tries to take my child and run again.

My phone buzzes. Matteo confirming his team's position around Ava's location.

"The southeast warehouse is ready," Tomasso continues. "Private, secure. Giuseppe's bringing the marriage license himself."

Marriage. The word tastes strange on my tongue. Once, in another life, I dreamed of proposing to Ava properly. Of getting down on one knee in that garden where we first kissed, promising her adventure and freedom and love.

Instead, I'm arranging what amounts to a hostage ceremony. Forcing her to choose between my protection and whatever fate the Fioris have planned for her.

"Your sister's been asking about her." Tomasso's voice softens slightly. "Says Ava was kind to her."

This memory hits me even harder. Ava sitting with Angela, discussing books and dreams while my mother looked on with actual awareness in her eyes. For a moment, I can see the future I wanted and the family we could have been.

The fantasy shatters as another report comes in. Tony's location confirmed at the Fiori compound. They’ve arrived. Time to move.

"Call Father Antonio." I straighten my cuffs, adjusting my sleeve to hide the ceramic blade. "Tell him I need his specialty services. The kind that leave no paper trail."

A second ceremony. A backup plan. Because one way or another, Ava will be mine. Legally. Irrevocably. Completely.

"Stefano..." Tomasso hesitates. "Your father always said marriage should be?—"

"My father is dead." The words come out sharp enough to make him step back. "Along with every soft, weak part of me that might have cared about things like choice or romance."

But even as I say it, something in my chest aches. Because I do care. I care enough to become the very monster I swore I'd never be. I care enough to trap her in a cage of legal documents and wedding rings, just to keep her safe.

I care enough to destroy anyone who tries to take her from me again.

The last weapon slides into place – a garrote wire thin enough to pass any security check. My reflection in the gun safe's mirror shows a man I barely recognize. Expensive suit. Controlled power. Eyes cold enough to make Chicago's underworld tremble.

Nothing like the boy who once promised Ava freedom.

"Everything's in position, Boss." Tomasso's voice pulls me back to the present. "Just waiting on your word."

I close the safe, each lock clicking into place like fate. Like chains. Like wedding bells.

"Call our friends in law enforcement." My voice carries no trace of the war inside me. "Make sure any...disturbances at the warehouse go unreported. And Tomasso?"

"Sir?"

"If she tries to run..." I pause, letting him see exactly what I've become. "Shoot her in the leg. Non-lethal wounds only. She's carrying my heir, after all."

The monster in me purrs at the words. My heir. My child. My Ava.

Mine forever, whether she wants to be or not.

Soon she'll learn everything else – how completely I own her, how futile running is, how desperately I'll destroy anyone who threatens what's mine.

Soon she'll understand exactly who I've become.

And why they call me Monster.

* * *

My overnight bag sits open on the bed where Ava slept just hours ago.

Her scent still lingers on the sheets—jasmine and fear and something uniquely her that makes the monster in me pace restlessly. I add a change of clothes methodically, each movement precise despite the rage and need churning beneath my skin.

A text from Matteo lights up my phone.

Target secured. No resistance.

Good. At least she's learned that much. She’s learned when to surrender to the inevitable.

"The safe house is ready," Tomasso reports from the doorway. "Giuseppe delivered the papers personally. They just need signatures."

I zip the bag closed with more force than necessary. "And the priest?"

"Father Antonio's waiting for your call. Says he can perform the ceremony whenever you're ready."

The word “ceremony” almost makes me laugh. Nothing about this will be ceremonial. No white dress. No flower petals. No soft music or gentle vows.

Just iron-clad contracts and unbreakable chains disguised as wedding rings.

My phone feels heavy as I pull up the contact—not Father Antonio's number, but another. Someone who specializes in making problems disappear. In ensuring compliance when gentler methods fail.

The line connects on the first ring.

"It's me." I keep my voice neutral. "I need the package we discussed. Full set. Three hours."

A pause, then they say, "Wedding rings included?"

"Yes." My fingers trace the edge of my desk where Ava once sat, laughing at something I said. Before the lies unraveled. Before I found those pregnancy tests. "Make them impossible to remove without tools."

Another pause. Understanding. "Like handcuffs with diamonds."

"Exactly." I check my watch. Time is ticking down until I have her completely in my grasp. "The usual price. Plus extra for discretion."

"Always a pleasure, Mr. Rega."

The call ends and I turn to find Tomasso watching me carefully. He's been by my side since we were children, seen every part of the transformation I made from wild boy to ruthless boss. He’s the only one who might understand why I have to do this.

"She'll fight it," he says quietly.

"Let her. She can hate me all she wants as long as she's alive to do it."

Alive and mine. Forever.

The security feed shows her huddled in the back of Matteo's car, one hand pressed protectively over her still-flat stomach. The sight makes something unfurl in my chest.

My child. My heir. My Ava.

"Send word to the Fioris." I shoulder my bag, already moving toward the door. "Let them know I will be coming for the boy soon. And Tomasso?"

"Sir?"

"Make sure they understand exactly what happens to people who touch what's mine."

He nods, already typing on his phone. We both know what comes next: violence and blood and all the darkness I've tried to keep separate from Ava.

But she made her choice when she ran. When she lied. When she tried to take my child and disappear into the night like smoke.

Now she'll learn what it means to belong to the Monster of Chicago.

"Time to go." I check my weapons one final time, each movement automatic after years of practice. "Let's get my bride."

The word tastes like victory and violence on my tongue. Like possession and punishment and everything I've become.

Everything I'll gladly do to keep her safe.

To keep her.

Forever.