LOGINChapter 3
Armani The low buzz of my phone pulled my attention away from the reports scattered across my desk. Lev: The flowers have been delivered. A slow smile tugged at my lips. Right on time. I slipped my phone into my pocket, grabbed my car keys, and headed for the garage. The drive to Drisana’s neighborhood was quiet. I parked several houses away, far enough that no one would associate the black sedan with her property but close enough to keep the front entrance in view. The porch light was still off. She wasn’t home yet. I settled deeper into the driver’s seat, my gaze fixed on the house. Minutes later, a pair of headlights turned onto the street. There you are. Her car rolled into the driveway, and the garage door lifted. Seconds later, the vehicle disappeared inside before the door slid shut behind it. I waited. I reached for my burner phone. My fingers hovered over the screen for a moment before a smile crept across my face. Time to introduce myself. Armani: Like the flowers? I chose your favorite. I leaned back against the headrest. Part of me wished I could see her expression. Anything that meant she was thinking about me. My phone vibrated almost immediately. Drisana: Who the hell is this? How did you get my number? Another message arrived before I could answer. Drisana: If this is Carter, I swear to God I’ll fucking kill you myself— A quiet chuckle escaped me. Even cornered, her first instinct was to fight. Armani: One question at a time, Sweetheart. And no, this isn’t Carter. Think of me as an ally. I sent the flowers to cheer you up. The typing bubble appeared… Disappeared… Appeared again. She was deleting her replies. Interesting. Drisana: Answer the fucking questions. Who are you? Who sent you? Armani: I’ve already answered that. No one sent me. Armani: And you don’t deserve the way your father chose that worthless piece of shit over you. Silence. She’d stopped replying. Armani: I have a bigger gift for you. Sweet Dreams, Drisana. I stared at the screen for another moment, resisting the urge to send one more message. I locked the burner phone and slipped it back into my pocket. Whether she was furious or frightened didn’t matter. Either way, I’d accomplished exactly what I’d set out to do. My private line buzzed. “Enzo just pulled up to the gate,” one of my guards said. “I’m on my way.” I started the engine and pulled away from the curb, leaving her street behind. By the time I reached the mansion, Jax and Lev were already waiting in my study. “Report,” I said, shrugging out of my coat. Jax stepped forward first, “The shipment went smooth. We took out two of the Russian crew who tried to intercept. Left their bodies as a message. No loose ends.” Lev added, “The product is secured. Your cut is already in the account.” I nodded, genuinely impressed. “Good work. Clean and quiet. That’s how I like it.” They both straightened a little. They knew praise from me was rare. “Enzo is waiting in the sitting room,” Jax said. I poured myself a glass of whiskey and headed downstairs. Enzo stood by the large window, looking out over the city lights. He turned when I entered, a calculated smile on his face. “Armani. Good to see you, son.” We exchanged the usual pleasantries, a brief hug, and a clap on the back. He always played the part of the proud father in public. “I was in the area for business,” he said smoothly. “Thought I’d drop by and check on my son.” “Of course.” I poured him a glass of whiskey and handed it over. We sat. I knew he had no real business on the South Side. Not any he hadn’t already told me about. The only reason Enzo came down here was because of me. He took a sip, then leaned back. “How is the Varma situation progressing?” I kept my face neutral. “Moving forward. I have eyes on the daughter. She’s starting to crack.” Enzo smiled. "I heard she tried to end the engagement this morning. Is it true?" My grip tightened around the glass. Fuck. Someone had gotten to him before I did. I'd planned on keeping it from him. "Yes." I set the glass down. "My men brought in the updates. The girl’s finally showing some spine. Don’t worry. I’ll handle the rest." "That bad, huh?" Enzo's smile widened. “You see, this is why I made you Underboss because I know you don’t fail. And you know I don’t tolerate failure. You did well. Keep pushing.” I gave him the intel he wanted, names, routes, and weaknesses of a few rivals. He looked pleased. “Let’s have dinner sometime, son.” He patted my back. When he finally left, I walked back toward my study, mind already returning to the hidden room. My phone buzzed. A new message from Drisana. Drisana: If you’re really on my side, prove it. I stopped in the hallway, staring at the screen. A slow, dark smile spread across my face. “Careful what you wish for,” I whispered.DrisanaI didn’t know how long I’d been sitting on the nursery floor. Minutes. Maybe an hour. Time had stopped making sense.My back rested against the side of Luca’s crib, my knees drawn toward my chest. The room was still filled with all the things that belonged to him.His clothes. His toys. The little stuffed rabbit. The blanket. Everything was exactly where it had been—everything except him.I couldn’t bring myself to leave. There was nothing left to protect. Nothing left to check. And still, I couldn’t make myself move.My fingers kept finding the torn piece of blue fabric I’d pulled from the window latch. I rubbed it between my fingertips over and over, as though the texture could tell me where my son was and, if I held it tightly enough, I could somehow hold onto him.The moment I closed my eyes, Luca’s face appeared immediately. His sleepy little expressions. The way his mouth opened slightly when he slept. The tiny crease that appeared between his brows whenever he was hung
ArmaniBy the time the sun began thinking about rising, my house no longer looked like a home.It looked like a command center. My study had been stripped of everything unnecessary. The maps that usually hung in the adjoining office were spread across my desk. Laptops covered the leather surface. Phones were charging from every available outlet. Security feeds occupied three monitors at once.A dozen men stood around the room. Marcus was in the center of it. Nobody spoke unless they had something useful to say. I stood at the head of the desk with my sleeves rolled to my forearms, staring at the clock.4:17 a.m.Luca had been gone for hours.Hours.And I had nothing. No ransom demand. No message. No photograph. No claim.Nothing.“Again.”Marcus looked up.“We’ve already run it.”“I don’t care. Run it again.”He didn’t argue. The search restarted. Every known kidnapping contact. Every intermediary. Every criminal organization that had ever done business in Chicago. Every man who had
DrisanaI woke up before my alarm.I didn’t know why.My eyes opened slowly to the darkness of the bedroom, my body still heavy with sleep. Armani’s arm was wrapped around my waist, his breathing steady against the back of my neck.For a few seconds, I just lay there. Then I noticed what the baby monitor was missing. I turned toward the nightstand. Nothing. My sleepy mind took a moment to remember why. We hadn’t brought it into the bedroom tonight. For the first time in months, we had decided we didn’t need it.I smiled faintly.He was fine. Probably sleeping. I carefully slipped out of Armani’s arm and sat up. My feet touched the cold floor. I glanced back at him. He didn’t stir. He was deep into his sleep, dreaming about whatever. I left the room quietly. The hallway was dark and quiet. Too quiet. I walked toward the nursery, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. The door was slightly open.I frowned. I was almost certain we’d closed it. I pushed it wider.“Elena?”No answer.I steppe
DrisanaThe new night nanny arrived just before dinner.Her name was Elena, and I had met her several times before tonight.She had been working with us for weeks, mostly during the day, learning the baby’s routine and getting used to the house. She knew when he usually slept, how he liked to be held, which bottle he preferred, and the exact face he made before he started crying.Tonight was her first overnight shift alone. I stood in the nursery doorway while she checked the baby’s bag for the third time.“You have everything?” I asked.She smiled. “Yes, Mrs Rossi.”“Extra clothes?”“Yes.”“Bottles?”“Prepared.”“Diapers?”“More than enough.”I nodded. She glanced at me.“You can go downstairs and eat your dinner.”I laughed softly.“I know.”“You’re allowed to leave him with me.”“I know that too.”She smiled knowingly.I looked at my son sleeping peacefully in his crib. It still felt strange leaving him with someone else. Not because I didn’t trust Elena.I did.She had been carefu
ArmaniSaturday mornings used to mean meetings.Calls. Reports. Men waiting outside my office with problems that couldn’t wait until Monday.This morning, there was none of that. No phone vibrating on the table or urgent messages from the company or anyone waiting for me to make a decision that could change someone’s life.Just sunlight spilling across the backyard and my son lying on a blanket in the grass. I sat beside him, one knee raised, watching his tiny hands move aimlessly above his head.Drisana was a few feet away, trying to keep him entertained with a ridiculous stuffed rabbit Marcus had given him.“You know he can’t even see that properly yet,” I said.“He can see it.”“He’s just three months old.”“He knows.”I looked at her. She looked completely serious. I smiled.“You’ve decided he’s a genius.”“Of course he is.”“He drooled on himself five minutes ago.”“That doesn’t mean anything.”“It means he’s your son.”She gasped. I laughed. She threw a small cushion at me. I ca
DrisanaI found the emails by accident.Or maybe I was looking for them without admitting it.I sat at the desk in the corner of our bedroom, scrolling through an account I hadn’t opened in almost a year. The password had worked on the third attempt. I had half expected the account to be gone.It wasn’t. Neither was the life attached to it. There were hundreds of unread messages. Clients asking about projects that had never been completed. Suppliers following up on payments. Former employees asking whether the company was still operating. A few personal messages from people I hadn’t spoken to since before everything fell apart.I stopped scrolling. One email was from a woman I’d worked with for years.Drisana, I don’t know if you’ll ever see this, but I hope you’re okay.My throat tightened. I closed the email before I could read further. For months, I had convinced myself that losing my business was one of the smaller things I’d lost.My freedom mattered more. My safety mattered mo
ARMANI “Will you be my boyfriend?” I stared at her. If I said that didn’t catch me off guard I’d be lying. It was so sudden. There she goes again. Amusing me without doing too much. She stared back with her chin up like whatever she had just asked was completely normal. The courage of this w
ARMANI *Who are you?* Eight months and she picks tonight to ask. Not a random Tuesday. Not after one of those late conversations where something almost real slipped through before one of us pulled it back. Tonight. When her fiancé had brutally thrust inside her best friend in doggy style and h
DRISANA He was already smirking when our eyes met. Chills ran down my spine. “Mr Stalker?” I didn’t mean to say it, but that was the first thing that came out of my mouth. The smirk vanished as soon as I turned to face him. “W—What? I wasn’t stalking—” he began. “How do you know about th
DRISANA The elevator was taking too long. I shifted my weight and checked my phone again, still nothing from Carter. No be there soon, no running late, no anything. Just two blue ticks that told me he had read both texts and decided I wasn’t worth a reply. It was Sloane who convinced me to com







