Chapter 3

Five years, three months, and eleven days. That was how long I’d been gone. And now, as the black Rolls-Royce glided across the George Washington Bridge, Manhattan’s skyline rising like a crown of steel and glass ahead of me, I didn’t feel the fear I’d carried when I left. I felt ready.

“Mommy, look!” Luca pressed his small hand to the window, his eyes wide. “The lights are like stars on the ground.”

I smoothed a hand over his dark hair — soft, thick, already showing the same stubborn wave Alexander had. “They are, baby. But remember what I told you? Some lights hide dark things. We have to be careful.”

He turned those eyes to me — bright, icy blue, exactly like his father’s. At five years old, he was quiet, observant, and already stronger than most grown humans. “I’ll protect you, Mommy. Like the knights in your stories.”

My heart swelled and ached all at once. “I know you will. But let me protect you first, okay?”

Elena sat across from us, scrolling through a tablet. She looked up, her expression approving. “The Romano name is back on the board. We’ve reactivated three holding companies, acquired real estate in Midtown, and your return gala is set for next week. Every powerful family in the city will be there — including the Thornes.” She paused. “Alexander Thorne confirmed his attendance this morning.”

My stomach tightened, but I kept my voice even. “Good. Let him see exactly who he turned away.”

The car slowed as we pulled up to the iron gates of the Romano Estate — a sprawling, stone mansion tucked away in the Upper East Side, hidden behind high walls and ancient trees. The gates swung open before the driver even touched the intercom.

“Home,” Luca whispered, staring up at the towering entrance.

“Your home,” I corrected.

We stepped inside, and the air shifted — warm, rich, smelling of old wood and amber. The entrance hall stretched wide, a grand staircase sweeping up to the second floor, portraits of stern-faced, dark-haired men and women lining the walls. My ancestors.

“Seraphina.” A man stepped out of the shadows of the corridor — tall, silver-haired, his suit perfectly tailored, his eyes sharp as shards of glass. “I am Silas. I managed the estate while you were away. Welcome home, Heiress.”

He bowed — a deep, respectful bow that made my throat feel tight. I was no longer the girl scrubbing tables at a diner. I was Seraphina Romano. And this was mine.

“Thank you, Silas.” I lifted my chin. “Is everything prepared?”

“Everything. Your office, your security detail, your personal suite — and the boy’s quarters.” His gaze flicked to Luca, assessing. “The rumors are true. He has Thorne’s eyes.”

Before I could answer, Luca stiffened. His head snapped toward the closed double doors at the end of the hall, and a low, resonant howl — clear and powerful, nothing like a child’s voice — rose from his throat. It wasn’t loud, but it filled the room, vibrating through the floorboards, through the walls, through my very bones.

Silas went pale. Elena’s hand flew to the holster beneath her jacket.

Outside, in the distance, wolves began to howl back. One. Then ten. Then dozens — rising from every corner of the city, answering the call.

Luca stopped, blinked, and looked up at me, confused. “Mommy? Why did they answer me?”

I knelt in front of him, keeping my voice steady even as my heart raced. “Because you’re special, Luca. Very special.”

“He’s an Alpha born,” Silas said, awe and dread warring in his voice. “That kind of call… it doesn’t just draw wolves. It draws their King.”

***

Alexander’s POV

I was in my study, reviewing security feeds, when the howl hit me.

It wasn’t a sound — it was a punch to the chest. A pull so strong it nearly dragged me to my knees. My wolf, usually quiet and contained, roared in my head, Mate. Mine. Our blood.

I gripped the edge of my desk until the wood splintered. “Where?”

Marcus, my Beta, burst through the door, his face pale. “Alexander — did you hear it?”

“Where is it coming from?” I was already moving, grabbing my coat, my phone, my keys — I didn’t know where I was going, only that I had to go.

“Upper East Side. The Romano Estate.” Marcus paused, his voice careful. “That property has been dormant for five years. Until today.”

I froze. Romano. The name was poison — the family my father had been accused of destroying, the name whispered in shadows, the bloodline I’d been taught to hate.

“That’s impossible,” I said. But my wolf was still pulling, still screaming, Our son. Our mate.

“Someone returned today,” Marcus said. “A woman. And a boy.”

The room tilted. I thought of the waitress. The rejection. The way she’d pressed her hand to her stomach before she walked away. The pieces weren’t fitting — but they were close. So close.

“Send a car,” I said, my voice rough. “No — get my driver. Now.”

“Alexander — it’s the Romano estate. We can’t just—”

“That boy howled, Marcus. And every wolf within ten miles answered him.” I looked at my oldest friend, letting the truth hang between us. “You know what that means. You felt it, too.”

Marcus went quiet. Then — “I felt it. But if that’s who I think it is… you need to be sure. Before you storm a fortress.”

“I don’t need to be sure.” I headed for the door, the pull in my chest growing stronger with every heartbeat. “I need to see her.”

***

Seraphina’s POV

The howl had faded, but the air in the hall still felt charged. Luca was staring at the front door, his small face serious.

“Someone’s coming,” he said. “A big wolf. A strong one.”

Elena pulled her phone out. “Security just sent an alert. Alexander Thorne’s vehicle is three minutes from the gate. He’s coming here.”

My breath caught. So soon. I wasn’t ready — not fully. But then I looked at Luca, standing straight and proud, and I straightened my shoulders.

“Let him come,” I said. “But no one opens that gate until I say so. And Luca — you stay with Elena. Inside.”

“Mommy —”

“Please, Luca. Just for a little while.” I touched his forehead, his eyes so like the man I was about to face. “I need to speak to him alone first.”

He nodded, solemn as a judge. “Okay. But if he’s mean, I’ll howl again.”

I almost smiled. Almost.

Silas went to the window. “He’s alone. No guards. Just him.”

That was surprising — and dangerous. But it also told me something: he wasn’t coming as a warlord. Not yet.

I walked to the front doors, my heels clicking on the marble, each step heavier than the last. I reached the gate control, pressed the button, and watched as the iron gates parted — and as the black sports car pulled up, and the man I’d spent five years trying to forget stepped out.

He was broader than I remembered. Harder. There were lines around his eyes that hadn’t been there before, and a scar that sliced through his left eyebrow — fresh, pale, fierce. He stood in the drive, his gaze sweeping the house, then locking on me through the open doors.

He didn’t recognize me. Not at first.

Then he took a step closer. And his eyes widened — in shock, in disbelief, in something that looked terrifyingly like hope.

“Seraphina?” His voice was rough, disbelieving. “Is that you?”

I didn’t step forward. I didn’t smile. I just stood there, tall, in a dress that cost more than my old apartment, and said — cool, calm, and final —

“Hello, Alexander. Welcome to my home.”