Page 25 of Righteous Enforcer
“We’ve made it this far?—”
His laugh cuts off my words. “Only because I showed up tonight. Do you plan to run forever? Because there is no place the Bratva can’t reach.”
My jaw tightens, hating that he’s right.
Anger narrows his eyes. “If I hadn't been there, you'd be dead in that alley. You're an idiot if you think they don't know about the kid."
"She has a name," I snap. "It's Mirabella."
"Fine." He steps closer, towering over me. "They'll sell Mirabella to the highest bidder. You think they're above trafficking children? Is that what you want? Do you hate me so much that you'd rather risk your daughter’s life than accept my help?"
I feel like I’m being attacked all over again, except this time, I deserve it.
He’s right that I’m stupid if I think the Bratva would leave Mirabella alone.
"I don't hate you." The words barely make it past the lump in my throat. "I never have."
His jaw tightens. "Then why run from me now?"
"Because it's better that way." I shift my weight as soreness grows. "It's better if you don't know anything…"
"Better for whom?"
I have no answer that wouldn't reveal too much.
Adriano shakes his head in frustration. "Not for your kid… for Mirabella."
He's right. As Mirabella's small hand clutches mine, I know that my only move right now is to go with him.
Mirabella comes first.
Always.
And Adriano, for all his darkness, all his danger, is her best chance at survival.
"Okay," I surrender. "We'll go with you."
Relief flashes across his face, and he ushers us toward his car.
I've spent four years running from this man, from the truth, from everything I've done.
Now I'm walking willingly back into his world, knowing it might destroy us both.
But for Mirabella, I would walk through fire. And trusting Adriano Dante might be exactly that.
7
ADRIANO
The hum of tires on the road fills the silence in the car as I drive us back to Long Island.
Eva stares out the window, I imagine plotting her escape. Mirabella sleeps in the backseat.
This isn't how I imagined finding Eva again.
In my darkest moments, I'd fantasized about her return, sometimes as a ghost haunting me for failing to protect her, other times as a woman who'd escaped from a madman out for revenge against my family.
Neither fantasy prepared me for reality—Eva battered and bloodied, clutching a child who isn't mine, looking at me like I'm the threat she fears most.
