58
MELANIE
Iwas sure the incident would destroy Villa Ravenna’s business—but to my shock, it did the opposite. We had to shut down for a few days while they cleaned up the blood, removed the body, and repaired the shattered window. It should have been a disaster. But thanks to Colt’s PR team, they spun the story, turning Nick into a hero and drowning out the version my dad fed the cops.
What followed was a whirlwind of chaos—a battle of conflicting stories. But with Colt in our corner, we had the upper hand. We thought proving the truth would be simple. All we had to do was show the police the security footage of my dad shooting Diablo. But my father, in his sickening brilliance, had already destroyed every camera before pulling the trigger. No footage. No proof. Just our word against his.
Lately, I’ve been spending time with Abigail, helping her with the baby. I didn’t mind—it gave her a chance to rest, and honestly, I didn’t want to be alone either. Nick insisted on it, and he was right. There’s no telling what my dad is capable of. If kidnapping wasn’t already on his list, I’m sure it wouldn’t take much for him to add it.
Even though I was still angry at my mom for believing himover me, I couldn’t stop worrying about her. I hadn’t heard from her in days. She used to call after she left with Richard, and even though I kept our conversations brief, hearing her voice was still a comfort. But now, knowing what my dad truly is—more than just a liar, more than just a monster—I can’t shake the fear that she’s in real danger.
Chloe cooed softly in my arms, her tiny fingers curling around mine as she sucked hungrily at the bottle. The sound—so desperate, so urgent—made it seem like life or death. I rocked her gently, watching her heavy lids flutter, and let myself imagine what it would be like to be a mother. Would I end up like mine—selfish, detached? Would I ever be truly happy with a simple life by Nick’s side? Or was misery woven into my DNA, an inevitability I couldn’t escape, just like my mom?
Fifteen minutes passed in a quiet rhythm of rocking and soft breaths. When Chloe finally surrendered to sleep, I laid her in her crib with careful hands and checked the time. I needed to get to the restaurant—Nick would need my help. It was Friday, and ever since the news broke, people had been pouring in, eager to meet him, to shake his hand, to thank him for his service and for being the hero who saved me.
And they weren’t wrong. He had saved me, maybe not in the way they imagined, but in ways that mattered even more. Nick had healed parts of me I didn’t even know were broken. Especially my toxic heart.
I gently pulled the nursery door shut, careful not to wake Chloe, then slipped down the stairs toward the master bedroom. The house was quiet, still. When I peeked inside, Abigail lay on her side, her slow, steady breathing the only sign of life. She was finally asleep, and I didn’t want to wake her, so I asked Olga to let her know I’d be gone and to have her call me when she woke up.
The second I stepped into the restaurant, the energy hit me. It was packed with people—every table filled, every conversation buzzing. Sweat trickled down my spine as I rushed to Table 19, carefully balancing their seared clams and mussels alongside the grilled pear Gorgonzola, one of my favorite appetizers.
“This looks absolutely decadent,” the woman said, eyes lighting up as she inhaled the rich aroma. She and her husband had driven from Oklahoma to see Nick and try our food. Ever since the news aired, the restaurant had been overflowing with people eager to meet him—the soldier, the hero, the man who saved me.
“It’s a personal favorite of mine,” I told her with a smile.
“Well, that just makes me like it even more,” her husband added, grinning.
I left them to enjoy their meal and moved on, checking in on other tables before making my way toward the kitchen. Sophia was right on my heels.
“Move it or lose it, blondie,” she teased, pushing past me.
We had hired a new hostess—it was easier to train someone up front than in the back. And Sophia? She knew the menu inside and out. Guests loved her charm. We’d also brought in a new waitress, but she was still training, and with the crowd we had, we needed all hands on deck.
“Oh, Jeneva sat you,” Sophia muttered, grabbing two plates.
I groaned. “Ugh.”
“It’s fine. One of the ladies specifically asked to sit in your section, but I told her I’d help out. I’ll get their drinks and appetizers started—don’t sweat it.”
“Thank you, Sophia.”
She smirked. “Please, my brother demanded I help his wife out. Also, he told me to remind you to take a break and check your blood sugar.”
Right. I’d almost forgotten.
I untied my apron and slipped into the office. Nick was busy up front, helping Alexa with drinks, so the space was empty. As I took a break and pulled out my insulin pen along with some nuts from the desk drawer, throwing a handful, my gaze drifted around the room. A memory flickered to life—the first time Nick had touched me here, right on this desk. The moment everything changed.
God, I had no idea back then how much my life would shift. How much he would change me.
Heat pooled in my stomach as the memory took hold, spreading through me, leaving a throbbing ache in its wake. I bit my lip, a slow smile curling up?—
“There you are.”
I looked up to find Nick leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised. “Why do you look like you’re up to no good?”
I smirked. “Excuse me, I’m being a good girl, checking my blood sugar—just like you told your sister to remind me. I was just… having a moment.”
“A moment?” He stepped closer.
