Chapter Four

I sip at my champagne and watch Grazia from across the room. She's a beautiful bride and just Marco's type.

I don't think that Marco has told her about me, which makes sense because he wouldn't want to open me up to being discovered by Elio.

The fewer people who know about me, the better.

But it's tempting to talk to her, to spill everything to her. I think of how lonely my life has been for the past seven years.

Marco provides me with everything that I need, a home to live in, school supplies to homeschool Mateo, and as many movies, books, and painting supplies as I need to keep myself entertained.

That doesn't change the fact that the only person I have to talk to besides my child is Marco.

Before he met Grazia, Marco was always busy with work, but he still came over a few times a month to hang out for a while and chat. Now that he's married, I know that I won't see much of him.

The thought of months of being all alone with no one but a seven-year-old for company is not a happy one.

I know it's time for something to change. This lifestyle is no longer sustainable.

I know that's why Marco finally caved and decided I could come today. The isolation had reached a boiling point. I just had to agree to be low-key and blend in. Easier said than done.

I drift toward Grazia, hearing her bright laughter as she talks to her family members. They are all beautiful women, spoiled, pampered, and easily recognizable as mafia princesses and queens.

A bitter smile curls my lips. I was like them once, rich and comfortable, so confident in my own worth. My life was a house of cards, though.

The safety of the women in mob families rests entirely in the hands of the men who run the families. Without strong men, there is no safety for the women and children in mafia circles.

Even with a strong leader at the head of the family, there was no guarantee that the women and children in the clan would be kept safe.

I thought of my father, who didn't know where I was. Marco told him that I came to see him and then I vanished. He warned him not to ask too many questions about where I was.

Marco assured me that my father knew I was safe and alive. He also made sure my father knew that everything depended on me being untraceable. Marco told my father he didn't have details to share, but that he knew I was okay, at least.

My family trusts Marco and his men like they were their own. This gave me some sliver of peace.

I still can't help but wonder what lengths my father went to in order to conduct his own search. In the end it doesn't matter because whatever the lengths, he was clearly not successful.

I wondered if Elio ever looked for me. Did he ask my father where I was? Did he check with the other powerful families in our circles to see if they were keeping me in hiding? I wasn't sure I would ever know the answer to those questions.

Frankly, I was surprised that Marco had caved to my pleas, inviting me to the wedding. I hadn't left my little hideaway house much since Elio walked out of my life.

Even when Mateo got pneumonia and was desperately sick, I did not leave. Marco had taken him to the hospital and kept me updated about his condition, but I was kept under lock and key.

From the moment Marco agreed to help me and put me in hiding all those years ago, he took the job very seriously. I'm sure his urgency was partly due to the complication that his personal safety was now wrapped up in me not being found.

Elio knew that Marco was the only man alive who knew my location. Alive being the key.

Elio wasn't going to kill Marco until he got me. Hence, keep me hidden, and continue holding the power card. That is, if Elio still had any interest in me whatsoever. It's very possible at this point Elio's moved so far on from me that he's on Mars.

Marco's protection was for my own good, I knew that, but sometimes I felt like I was being kept in a gilded prison created by my own design. Surely, after so many years, Elio had lost interest in me.

My dream of being able to leave Marco's protection and live anonymously somewhere was becoming the only thing I could think about.

I was starting to think that another year in the little cottage, alone with my son, would make me go crazy.

Grazia is just a few people away now, and I can see that she is showing her sister the beading and lace on her dress.

I tilt my head back and swallow my champagne in one go. I blindly hand the champagne flute off to a passing waiter, trying to gather myself to say Grazia's name.

"Mama!"

I turn toward the sound of my child's voice, hiding my shaking hands by clasping them together as I squat down to be closer to his height. "What is it, baby?" I ask. I reach out and ruffle his soft, dark hair.

Mateo's nearly black hair came from his father, but his golden-brown eyes are entirely mine.

He's a handsome little boy and kind-hearted. I often worry that he is too sweet to survive this terrible life that he has been born into.

Being the child of a man like Elio La Rosa is not something to be envied. That is, unless you are cold-blooded and ruthless, just like him.

"Can I go play with the other kids, por favor?" Mateo asks me. His eyes are shining with excitement.

I feel a pang in my heart. The opportunity for him to be around other children has been limited for all of his life. No wonder he is so excited by the chance to get to play with other kids his own age.

"Absolutely," I tell him with a smile. I lean forward and press a kiss to his forehead.

"Thank you, Mama!" Mateo calls over his shoulder as he whirls away and runs across the room.

I stay hunkered down for a moment, watching my child scampering across the room with a soft smile on my face. I slowly rise to my feet, smoothing the silky skirt of my black dress.

"What a beautiful child," a female voice says to my left.

I look over my shoulder and see Grazia coming over to me. She is watching my little boy as he meets up with the other Baldini children. "Thank you," I say truthfully.

Mateo is my life, the only good thing I have left. I am biased, I know, but I'm fully aware that he is a beautiful and sweet little boy. It would be hard not to respond to him the way Grazia has just done.

"How old is he?" Grazia asks me.

"He's six," I tell her.

"I hope Marco's and my children are half as adorable as he is," Grazia says with a grin. She presses a hand to her abdomen as if she is imagining being pregnant.

"I'm sure they will be," I tell her. "Actually, there's something that I should tell you about me and my child."

"Oh, sure," Grazia says interestedly. She grabs a drink off a passing tray and waits expectantly for my next words.

I take a deep breath and wet my lips. Screw blending in, screw the low profile. "Well, I think you should know that Marco and I grew up together and that I have been in hiding for the last seven years. Marco has made sure that Mateo and I were as comfortable as possible."

"I'm sorry, Marco kept you comfortable? Why?" Grazia asked.

My mouth feels dry. "Because he claimed Mateo as his own child after I ran into…difficulties."

Grazia frowns at me. Her cheeks look pale. "Difficulties," she repeats. "That child isn't actually Marco's, then?"

"As far as anyone else knows, he is," I reply.

Grazia is starting to look angry. "Okay, I am going to get to the bottom of this. Come with me," she says firmly.

She begins striding away to the other side of the room, presumably to look for Marco. I did see him heading this way earlier, but I haven't noticed him come back into the ballroom where the reception is being held.

"Where is my damn husband?" Grazia mutters to herself as she pushes through two large doors leading out into a courtyard.

I hear her gasp, and I hurry to catch up to her. As I peer over her shoulder, I see Elio La Rosa, my Elio, haul back and slug Marco right in the face.

"Marco!" Grazia screams, racing toward the two men struggling on the floor.

Marco seems to be holding his own, but I know what Elio can be like. Despite his slender frame, he is stronger than most men, and his infamous rage often makes him capable of terrible things.

"Stop it! Enzo, Luca!" Grazia shouts as she tries to get a hold of Elio's arm.

He flings her off like a rag doll, and she crumples to the floor with a wounded cry, a cascade of little beads from her wedding gown scattering across the floor and making little pinging sounds.

Eager to halt the fight before someone gets seriously injured, I rush forward and try to catch Elio's wrist in my grasp.

He is blind with fury, something I have seen before many times. It's not likely that he will recognize anyone in this state, other than the person that he is trying to destroy.

With a shout of fury, Elio wrenches his wrist from my grasp and drives his fist into Marco's face yet again. Marco groans and scrambles back, trying to protect himself from Elio's continued attack.

"Elio! For the love of God, stop it!" I shout in desperation.

Elio freezes with his fist lifted to punch Marco yet again. He slowly straightens up from where he is hunched over Marco and turns to look at me.

Meeting his gaze for the first time in seven years is surreal.

I never expected to see Elio again. I am not prepared to be faced with him like this.

Time has been kind to Elio. When last I saw him, he was just turning into a man, just losing the softness of youth and still growing into his lean, lanky frame. The man turning to face me now is in the prime of his life, powerful and sleek like a panther wearing a suit.

His black eyes meet my own, and something primal flares to life in their depths. There's a curl of his thick, dark hair hanging over his forehead, and I resist the urge to reach out and sweep it back into place.

He has filled out over the past seven years, muscles standing out on his frame that were not there when last we saw one another. He is still deceptively slim, but now there is a restrained power evident in his every movement.

As I stare at him silently, he scrapes the hair off his forehead with those slender, beautiful hands that used to caress my body, wrap themselves around my throat, and slap my skin while we made love.

He hasn't changed a bit, and yet he's changed entirely. I have no idea what to do next.

"Kate," he purrs at me, stalking closer. His dress shoes click against the tile floor. He adjusts his sleeves with small, neat motions, his eyes never leaving mine. I feel like prey, pinned by his gimlet glare.

"Elio," I manage to choke out through the lump in my throat.

"It's time to go now, love," he says to me, reaching toward me.

I dance away from him, my heart leaping to life in my chest. "No, Elio," I say, shaking my head. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Oh, you want to stay here with Marco, I suppose?" Elio says, his deep voice as smooth as velvet sliding across my skin.

"Actually, no," I say breathlessly, dodging past him again. "I just want you all to leave me alone."

"You're still my betrothed," Elio says to me, his voice hardening and his eyes narrowing. "I have remained faithful to you all this time, even if you haven't been so loyal to me."

"I'm not going anywhere with you, Elio," I insist vehemently, backing toward the doors behind us so I can make my escape. His words rattling in my head.

Marco is going to be useless to us in his current state, but I do know a few of the guards. I just have to grab Mateo and find a guard I know so that we can get out of here.

I reach behind me, feeling for the rough wood of the carved door that Grazia and I just passed through before blundering into this mess. I'm momentarily confused when I can't feel it with my questing fingers. I take a bigger step backward, still groping blindly for the doors.

Suddenly, a muscular arm wraps around my neck, and I go completely still as I feel cold metal pressing against my temple.

I watch Elio draw to a stop and see relief wash across Grazia's face as she finally manages to get to her feet. She looks down in dismay at the beads from her wedding dress scattered all over the floor.

"No one is going anywhere," Luca Baldini says firmly, and I hear him cock the gun that is pressed against my temple.