One
Harper
Dante retrieves a file that has been sitting on his lap, hidden beneath the table. He opens the folder, the contents staring me straight in the face.
The air rushes out of my lungs as I stare at the birth certificate.
No one was supposed to know.
“You failed to mention that you have a son.”
I glance at Luca. This isn’t how I wanted him to find out. I had planned on telling him when things got serious between us.
We jumped from planning our first real date to an engagement overnight. That somehow is entirely my fault. I thought I heard a whimpering puppy and followed the sound in the middle of the night.
Turns out, I was wrong.
It wasn’t an animal, but a little boy all of eight years old, being held prisoner in the Ricci’s basement.
From there, I made the near-deadly mistake of trying to help the little one flee on foot, which only got us both dragged back down to the dungeon and nearly killed.
Dante, Luca’s father, offered me one way out, to shoot one of his men who had betrayed him.
I’m not a murderer.
I could never hurt anyone, unless perhaps it were in self-defense, or I suppose if anyone laid a hand on my son.
A mother’s fury is undeniable.
Dante wanted me dead. Ordered my execution. That was last night.
Of course, Luca stepped in, my proverbial knight in shining armor, in sweats and a t-shirt, insisting that we marry, he would work for his father, and I would be protected by the family.
It still doesn’t sit well with me, the idea of marrying for protection instead of love, and marrying into this family, filled with monsters and murderers.
But my life is on the line, as is Luca’s.
I heard the order, that Ashton Rinaldi was tasked with executing both Luca and me if we don’t follow orders.
Can’t say I’m disappointed that Ashton isn’t sitting at this dinner table tonight. He left early and returned to Evergreen University.
Wish I could have gone back to campus, too, but instead, I’m forced to face Luca’s parents in the flesh and Nova’s parents, because they happen to work closely with the Riccis.
It’s like a family reunion, and I’m being served as the meal.
Luca’s eyes tighten, and I can see the pain that I’ve caused. His gray eyes swirl like a December sky, heavy with clouds, turbulent winds blowing in and a winter storm brewing.
“You have a son?” he seethes, shock evident on his face.
The birth certificate—a reminder of the little boy I love desperately, who I’d do anything to protect.
I knew this day would come. I just thought I would be the one explaining to Luca about my son.
He deserves to hear the truth from me.
“I do,” I say and nod slowly. Admitting the truth is the only way through this, with all eyes on me, like I’m the villain in this story.
Meanwhile, I’m seated at a table with actual criminals, men who live and breathe for the mafia.
