I’ve been camped at Halsey’s for a few days while she’s out of town on a work trip. I’m trying not to think about how I walked away from Dante, and… well, everything.
I pace the living room, phone in hand, scanning the local news on the off chance there’s a story about my disappearance. Nothing so far, but I’m not about to let my guard down. If Dante is half as cunning as I know he is, he’s probably checking traffic cams, building security feeds—anything he can to track me down.
Which is why I’ve been extra careful. There’s a shop across the street from Halsey’s building with a well-placed security camera. If Dante pulls a few strings or just pays off the right people, he’ll be able to grab that footage and ID me, narrowing down my location. So I’ve been using the back entrance instead, with a busted overhead light and zero cameras.
I flop onto Halsey’s couch with a groan. The cushions are worn and sagging in the middle, but it’s still comfortable. I’m half a city away from Dante, yet his presence lingers, as if he’s right next to me.
The heartbreak’s real because I thought he might be the man I could finally trust. Until I saw that damned footage.
My father was gunned down, possibly on Dante’s orders, or at least with his knowledge. Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions and it’s all a misunderstanding, but how can I bet my life, my child’s life on that?
The baby gives a small flutter, a gentle reminder I’m not alone in this body anymore. I press a hand to my belly, swallowing the knot in my throat. We’ll figure it out, I mentally promise. But how?
A knock sounds at the apartment’s old wooden door and my heart jumps. If it’s just a package, the mailman usually buzzes and walks away. Dante wouldn’t knock politely—he’d bust in with an army or something equally dramatic.
Who the hell could it be?
I creep to the peephole.
It’s Luca, of all people.
My pulse thunders as I experience half panic, half annoyance, but I’m not about to cower in the bathroom. Face it, Eva. You’ve handled scarier than Luca. Gritting my teeth, I hesitantly unlock the door and pull it open an inch, chain still on.
He lifts his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Hey. I’m not here to fight.”
“No, you’re just creeping around my friend’s apartment building.” I glare at him. “How’d you find me and what do you want?”
He huffs out a breath. “I saw you slip away that night and I put two and two together. Figured Halsey might be your safe harbor. I staked out the block, saw you duck in the back. Listen, I just want to talk.”
I roll my eyes. “So talk.”
He glances around the dingy hallway like it’s beneath him, then looks back at me. “You gonna let me in?”
I lean against the door frame, crossing my arms. “Luca, to be perfectly honest, I don’t I trust you.”
He clenches his jaw, frustration clear. “Five minutes, please. I’m unarmed and alone. I swear.”
I study him for a moment—disheveled hair, dark circles under his eyes. He looks miserable, nothing like the smug jerk I remember. With a sigh, I slide the chain free and open the door wide enough for him to enter. “Fine, but keep your hands visible.”
He steps inside, glancing around at Halsey’s cramped living room. “So this is where you’ve been hiding.”
I shut the door. “Hiding is a strong word. More like regrouping.”
Luca nods, shuffling his feet. “Sure. Regrouping. Right.” He gives me a doubtful look then fishes a slip of paper out of his pocket, offering it to me. I eye it suspiciously.
“What’s this?” I ask.
“Address and phone number of a guy who can hook you up with a new ID, new name, legit documents. If you’re planning on skipping town, you’ll need it. But there’s a catch—it has to happen tonight.”
I stare at him. “Why?”
“Because if you vanish, Dad names me sole heir to the Bellacino empire. Which means I get what I want, and you get away from us for good. It’s a win-win.”
My stomach flips. At least he’s honest about it. “You sure you don’t have some other angle?”
He shrugs, a hollow laugh escaping. “That is the angle. You and my dad clearly share something special. If you were to disappear for good, that changes everything for me.”
A bitter taste coats my tongue. He wants me out of the picture so he can ensure there is no competition for his inheritance, no other heir for Dante to award the title of becoming the next boss. He knows he doesn’t have what it takes. But ironically, we do have the same short-term goal: me getting out of the Bellacino orbit.
“Wow,” I say softly, “you never learned how to be subtle, did you?”
He barks a sardonic laugh. “Subtlety is for people who can afford it. You and me? We’re nothing but pawns in this messed-up game. At least I’m giving you an out.” He shifts closer, a hint of the old Luca swagger returning. “Eva, I won’t lie. I always thought we had something unique. If you’d just—”
“Don’t,” I snap, stepping back. My blood pressure spikes. “That ship sailed. Actually, it never left the harbor. Let’s not pretend.”
His jaw tightens. “I’m just saying, my father isn’t the only Bellacino you can turn to. Just because you’d be leaving town doesn’t mean we can’t stay in touch.”
I bristle at the thought, jabbing a finger at his chest. “You had your chance, remember? And you blew it. If your father hadn’t shown me what an actual relationship looks like, how a woman is supposed to be treated…” I stop, swallowing hard, letting the words trail off. Focus, Eva. “I’m pregnant with his child, so don’t try to pitch me some triangle fantasy.”
He narrows his eyes at me for a moment, a flicker of resentment flashing. “Fine,” he mutters. “Just get a new ID and go. Or you’ll never have peace. These people will help you disappear. No questions asked.”
I snatch the slip of paper from his hand, glancing at the address. Some place in Queens, from the looks of it. It could be a trap, or it could be my ticket out.
“Sure,” I say curtly, folding the address and shoving it into my pocket. “Thanks.”
He exhales dramatically, relief warring with bitterness on his face. “So, we good?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “We’ll never be good, Luca. But for now, this is convenient for both of us. Now get out.”
He gives me a half-hearted nod. “I guess that’s fair.” He steps to the door, turning at the threshold. “Look, I know you hate me. But I’m not the real enemy here. Think about that.”
I shrug, my expression flat. “Save the speech. Just leave.”
He slips out into the hallway, a defeated and miserable look on his face. “Remember,” he says before closing the door, “you have to go see them tonight. You don’t show, offer’s off the table.”
He pulls the creaking door shut behind him, leaving me standing there, my mind spinning. I sink onto Halsey’s couch, pressing the heels of my palms to my eyes.
Should I take his offer? Flee New York and start fresh under a new identity? Again? My mind reels with the possibilities. I’ve done it before, but could I do it now, with a baby on the way?
My hand goes to my belly. This isn’t just about me anymore. This could be a trap; Luca could be sending me into a viper’s nest for all I know. Starting over means zero ties to Dante, Halsey, and everything else I’ve built in my New York life. But staying means learning the truth about Dante’s involvement in my father’s murder and accepting the possibility that he’s as dark and cruel as the footage suggests.
I don’t know if I can handle that type of betrayal.
A headache throbs at my temples. Damn you, Luca. Damn you, Dante. The entire Bellacino family is a swirl of secrets and I’m caught in the middle.
I pull out the piece of paper and stare at the address like it’s a magic number. I’m sure the place is shady as hell, but if Luca’s actually telling the truth for once in his greasy little life, it might be my shot at real freedom. No more mafia life. No Linda with her Botox scowl.
No Dante with his beautiful lies.
Of course, leaving would also mean no closure. No answers. No chance to corner Dante and make him explain why he was getting cozy with my father’s killer. Just poof—gone. Everything I’ve bled for over the last year all for nothing.
My stomach growls. I head to Halsey’s fridge, which looks like a crime scene of expired condiments. I settle on leftover Chinese from the other day and toss it in the microwave, my gaze drifting back to the address sitting on the coffee table.
I plop back onto the couch, phone in one hand, paper in the other. I could call this guy and get the vanishing act rolling. Be nothing more than a memory by Monday.
I look around, frowning, and see Halsey’s baby magazines on the shelf—her idea of “prepping” after I told her.
I rest my hand on my belly. “You and me, kid, we’ve got options.”
I stare at my phone. My thumb hovers. I could dial and disappear or…
I could talk to Dante. Demand the truth. Swallow it, no matter how bitter.
Either way, something’s going down tonight.
