Women screamed. Bodyguards reached for weapons.
Luca grabbed me instantly, throwing me behind a marble display as gunfire erupted outside.
My ears rang.
Chaos swallowed the boutique.
Someone shouted in Russian. Another man fired back.
Luca’s arm wrapped around me protectively while bullets shattered shelves nearby.
The saleswoman collapsed crying beside the register.
Vanessa crouched behind another display while Luca’s men formed a defensive line near the entrance.
“Get her out the back!” someone yelled.
Luca looked down at me.
For one brief second, all the coldness disappeared from his face.
Only fear remained.
Real fear.
For me. For the baby.
“Can you run?” he asked.
“At eight months pregnant?”
Another gunshot exploded nearby.
“Right,” he muttered.
Despite everything happening around us, I almost smiled.
Then Luca pulled a handgun from beneath his coat with terrifying familiarity.
God. I remembered this version of him too.
Efficient. Deadly. Completely controlled.
The mafia boss.
“Stay behind me,” he ordered.
“We’re not finished talking.”
His gray eyes met mine. “Trust me enough to survive the next five minutes first.”
Then he stood and fired twice toward the entrance.
The shots were deafening. Precise.
One of the attackers collapsed outside.
Luca grabbed my hand again and pulled me toward the back hallway while his men covered us.
Vanessa followed close behind.
The boutique owner appeared near a hidden door looking horrified. “This way!”
Apparently luxury nursery stores for billionaires came equipped with emergency exits.
Of course they did.
Luca pushed me through first.
The hallway behind the boutique opened into a private underground garage.
Black SUVs waited near the elevators.
More armed guards.
Always more guards.
Luca guided me quickly toward the nearest vehicle.
Then everything stopped.
Because a familiar voice echoed across the garage.
“Well,” the man said coldly, “this just became very interesting.”
Luca turned sharply.
So did I.
And my stomach dropped.
Nikolai Volkov stood beside the garage entrance surrounded by armed men.
Tall. Blond. Smiling like violence amused him.
The head of the Volkov Bratva.
The man responsible for at least half the bloodshed in New York during the past year.
And his icy blue eyes were locked directly on my stomach.
“Congratulations,” Nikolai said softly.
Luca stepped in front of me instantly.
Protective. Possessive. Deadly.
Nikolai laughed. “Oh, now you want to hide her?”
Every weapon in the garage lifted.
One wrong move and everyone here would die.
Including me.
Including the baby.
Luca’s voice turned dangerously quiet. “You’re making a mistake.”
“No,” Nikolai replied. “I think you did.”
His gaze shifted toward me.
“Your wife vanished for months carrying your heir.”
Wife.
Not ex-wife.
Because technically… Our divorce had never been finalized.
Luca delayed the paperwork repeatedly before I disappeared. At the time, I thought it was control.
Now I wasn’t sure.
Nikolai smiled again. “You know what happens now.”
I did.
The child became leverage.
A bargaining chip powerful enough to destabilize the entire Moretti empire.
Luca slowly moved his arm behind him. Shielding me.
“Leave,” he said.
Nikolai tilted his head.
“You think I came here to negotiate?”
Then gunfire exploded again.
This time inside the garage.
Everything happened at once.
Men shouted. Weapons flashed. Bullets slammed into concrete.
Luca shoved me behind the SUV while his men opened fire.
Vanessa disappeared behind another car.
The garage became a war zone in seconds.
I covered my stomach instinctively while crouching beside the tire. My heartbeat pounded painfully.
The baby kicked hard.
“It’s okay,” I whispered shakily. “I’ve got you.”
Then someone screamed.
I looked up just in time to see one of Luca’s guards collapse.
Blood spread across the concrete.
God.
I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t raise a child inside this nightmare.
Luca fired again before grabbing the passenger door open. “Get inside!”
I scrambled toward the SUV.
Suddenly another shot rang out.
Pain exploded through Luca’s shoulder.
He staggered.
“Luca!”
His men immediately closed around him while returning fire.
But even injured, Luca looked terrifying.
He ignored the blood soaking through his coat and shoved me into the vehicle.
“Drive!” he barked.
The SUV accelerated violently.
Two more vehicles followed behind us as gunfire echoed through the garage.
I twisted around in the seat breathing hard.
Luca climbed in beside me seconds later while one of his men slammed the door shut.
The convoy sped out into Manhattan traffic.
Nobody spoke for several moments.
The driver focused ahead. The bodyguard in the front seat spoke rapidly into an earpiece.
And Luca sat beside me bleeding through his coat.
I stared at the blood spreading across black cashmere.
Memories crashed into me instantly.
Long nights waiting for him. Panic every time unknown numbers called. The metallic smell of blood hidden beneath expensive cologne.
This life.
This terrible life.
“You’re hurt,” I whispered.
Luca glanced down briefly. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s a gunshot wound.”
“I’ve had worse.”
That wasn’t comforting.
Vanessa climbed into the front passenger seat from another vehicle after a quick stoplight exchange.
She turned around immediately.
“Safe house?” she asked.
Luca shook his head. “No.”
“Luca—”
“He knows the safe houses.”
Nikolai.
Of course he did.
Vanessa looked toward me. “And her?”
Luca’s eyes moved slowly back to my stomach.
“She stays with me.”
“No.”
The word came out instantly.
Luca looked exhausted suddenly.
Not physically. Emotionally.
“You are carrying my child while a Bratva boss actively hunts my family,” he said quietly. “You don’t get to disappear again.”
Anger flared through me.
“Your family is exactly why this happened.”
The SUV fell silent.
Vanessa watched us carefully.
Luca leaned back slowly despite the blood on his shoulder.
“You think leaving protected the baby?”
“Yes.”
“You were alone.”
“I was hidden.”
“You were vulnerable.”
“I was free.”
That hit him.
I saw it clearly.
Because despite everything… Luca understood that life beside him had often felt like a beautiful prison.
He rubbed a hand across his jaw.
“When did you find out?”
I hesitated.
Then answered honestly.
“After the Russo shooting.”
Luca closed his eyes briefly.
He remembered.
Everyone in New York remembered.
A meeting between mafia families ended in bloodshed after betrayal inside the Russo organization. Three men died. The newspapers called it a suspected gang incident.
I remembered standing barefoot in our penthouse afterward while cleaners scrubbed blood from Luca’s white marble floors.
And realizing I was late.
Pregnant.
Terrified.
“I couldn’t do it,” I whispered.
Luca looked at me again.
For the first time since seeing him in the boutique, something in his expression finally cracked.
“You should have told me.”
Tears burned unexpectedly behind my eyes.
“I didn’t know if bringing a child into your world was cruel or selfish.”
The vehicle grew painfully quiet.
Even Vanessa looked away.
After a long moment, Luca spoke softly.
“I would have burned the world down before letting anyone touch you.”
“That’s exactly the problem.”
His gaze sharpened.
“You think I’m the monster.”
“No,” I whispered. “I think you became one to survive.”
That silence lasted the rest of the drive.
—
The penthouse hadn’t changed.
Of course it hadn’t.
Luca Moretti owned the entire top floor overlooking Central Park. Forty million dollars of glass, marble, and terrifying security.
The moment I stepped inside again, memories crashed into me hard enough to steal my breath.
The piano near the windows. The black staircase. The fireplace where Luca once slept beside me after a nightmare he pretended not to have.
Home.
God help me. It still felt like home.
Medical staff arrived immediately for Luca.
He ignored them until one older doctor snapped sharply, “Sit down before you bleed on my shoes.”
Vanessa almost smiled.
Apparently everyone feared Luca except his physician.
I stood awkwardly near the windows while guards secured every entrance.
The baby shifted heavily again.
“You should sit,” Vanessa said quietly behind me.
I turned.
She looked immaculate despite surviving a gunfight.
Not one blonde strand out of place.
I studied her carefully.
Beautiful. Controlled. Dangerously intelligent.
“Are you in love with him?” I asked before thinking.
Her expression barely changed.
“No.”
The honesty surprised me.
“Then why are you with him?”
Vanessa glanced toward Luca across the penthouse.
“Because powerful families survive through alliances.”
Ah.
An arrangement.
Maybe I should have felt relieved. Instead something strange twisted painfully inside my chest.
Vanessa folded her arms.
“He never stopped looking for you.”
I looked away.
“I left deliberately.”
“He knew that.”
“Then why search?”
For the first time, Vanessa’s composed expression softened slightly.
“Because he thought you were dead.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“What?”
Vanessa lowered her voice.
“Your abandoned car was found near the docks three months ago.”
My blood went cold.
I stared at her.
“That’s impossible.”
“It exploded.”
Suddenly I understood.
The car.
The old sedan I traded to a man in Queens for cash after leaving Manhattan.
Dear God.
Luca thought someone killed me.
I looked toward him automatically.
He sat while the doctor stitched his shoulder. Face emotionless. Eyes distant.
How long had he believed that?
How many nights?
Vanessa’s voice turned quieter.
“He nearly started a war over it.”
Something inside me cracked painfully.
Because despite everything wrong between us… I knew Luca.
And I knew grief would have destroyed whatever humanity remained inside him.
The doctor finally finished.
Luca stood immediately.
“Everyone out.”
The room emptied without argument.
Even Vanessa.
Soon only Luca and I remained inside the massive penthouse.
Thunder rolled softly outside the windows.
