Something in my tone must cut through his scotch haze because he actually listens, dropping into the chair like his strings have been cut. I fill a glass with water and set it in front of him, then lean against the counter, putting the width of the kitchen between us.
“Drink that. Then we’ll talk about how you secretly tested my son without permission.”
“Ourson.” He takes a long drink of water.
Hearing Alessio claim Austin feels terrifying and inevitable all at once.
He sets the glass down carefully. “And you kept him from me for six years.”
“I didn’t even know your last name until two weeks ago. What was I supposed to do, put out a Craigslist ad? ‘Looking for the guy who saved me from thugs and knocked me up. Answers to Alessio, has amber eyes and a pierced cock.’”
Despite everything, his mouth twitches toward a smile. “Accurate ad, at least.”
“Focus.” But I feel my own anger softening at the edges. “You want to know why I didn’t tell you when I found out you were my boss? Because you were being an asshole. You pretended not to know me, treated me like I was nothing, and made it crystal clear you wanted nothing to do with me.”
He runs his hand through his hair again. “Because I wanted you too much. And that’s not something I know how to handle.”
I blink, caught off guard by his honesty. “You could have just talked to me instead of making me feel like garbage.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
We stare at each other across my kitchen, and I feel the weight of all the things we’re not saying. The fear. The want. The overwhelming reality that we share a child and have no idea what to do about it.
“I want to be his father,” he says finally, his voice steady now. Determined. “I’m all in, Nina. That’s my kid, and I’m going to be there for him.”
“Those are pretty words.” I stare him down. “But being a dad is more than showing up with declarations. It’s homework help and nightmare duty and sitting in emergency rooms for hours. It’s explaining why you can’t have ice cream for breakfast and why we have to brush teeth even when we’re tired. Can you do that?”
He stands, moving toward me with the kind of intent that makes my pulse jump. I hold my ground as he stops just close enough that I have to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact.
“I don’t know how to be a dad,” he admits, his voice rough. “Hell, I barely know how to be a decent human being. But I know how to learn. I know how to fight for what matters. And you two? You matter.”
The words hit somewhere deep, somewhere I’ve kept locked since Eric taught me that pretty words are just another kind of weapon. But there’s something in Alessio’s eyes that Eric never had.
Fear.
Real, genuine fear that I might say no.
I take a breath. “If you’re serious about this, we do it my way,” I tell him. “You don’t get to barge in and make demands. You want to be Austin’s father? You earn it.”
He shifts his weight, “Fair enough. What are your terms?”
“We start slow. You meet him properly first. Get to know each other before we tell him anything.”
“How long?—”
“I’ll know when he’s ready.” I cross my arms. “And you prove Austin comes first. Not your business, not your ego, not your need to control everything. Him.”
He leans against the counter, mirroring my stance. “What else?”
“We need to talk about your... business situation.”
His jaw tightens at that last part. “About that?—”
“Let me finish.” I cut him off. “I saw those bikers at the club. The girls talk, Alessio. I’m not stupid. I know what you are.”
He goes very still, studying my face like he’s trying to read whether I’m about to bolt. “And you’re...okay with that?”
“I’m okay with you.” The admission surprises us both. “But your world? The violence and the enemies and the constant danger? That stays away from Austin.”
