Chapter 2 – A City Without Him

Amara's POV

I kept waiting to wake up.

For days after that night, it didn’t feel real. The way Dante’s voice had sliced through me, the way the world had tilted beneath my feet… it played over in my head like a nightmare that refused to end. I’d stand in front of the bathroom mirror every morning, press a hand to my flat stomach, and whisper to my reflection, “It’s not real. It was just a dream.”

But then I’d look down.

I’d remember the two pink lines. And the lie would crumble all over again.

I was pregnant.

No amount of pretending could erase the weight of that truth. It wasn’t just my life anymore. There was a heartbeat growing inside me, tiny and fragile, and it deserved better than the ruin Dante had left behind.

The city felt colder after him. Bellavita’s lights, once warm and alive, now looked like sharp little teeth. Every corner held a memory I didn’t want. The streets we’d walked, the car he sent to pick me up, the places where I had pretended to be loved.

Everywhere I went, I saw him. Not the Don the world feared, but the man I had loved in my own foolish way. The one I had believed, just for a second, might have loved me too.

But that man didn’t exist.

The silence of my apartment grew heavier by the hour. The walls started to feel like they were closing in, pressing the air out of my lungs. I’d wake up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat, reaching for a voice that would never answer me again.

I couldn’t stay. Not here. Not where everything screamed his name.

So I packed.

One small suitcase. A handful of clothes. A photograph of my parents. And the little box where I’d hidden the pregnancy test, like proof that this nightmare had been real. I stared at the city lights one last time from my window, hands wrapped around my belly, and whispered, “We’re leaving.”

The bus station smelled like coffee, wet pavement, and strangers starting over. It suited me. The city I chose wasn’t too far, just a few hours away, but it felt like another world when the train pulled in. I didn’t have a plan beyond disappearing. I didn’t need one. All I wanted was distance.

I rented a tiny apartment with peeling wallpaper and windows that didn’t close properly. It wasn’t much, but it was quiet, and most importantly… it wasn’t Bellavita.

For the first few weeks, I pretended the past had happened to someone else. I worked at a small bookstore in the mornings and helped at a bakery down the street in the afternoons. Nobody knew my name. Nobody knew what I’d lost.

I’d catch myself tracing the curve of my stomach while restocking shelves, feeling the tiniest flutter beneath my skin, and for a moment, it was enough. I didn’t need Dante. I didn’t need anyone.

At night, though, the silence would crawl back in.

I’d lie awake listening to the hum of the city outside, remembering his voice. The sound of his laugh. The way he’d once said my name like it meant something. Then I’d remember the way he’d looked at me that night. The cruelty in his eyes.

I’d turn on the bedside lamp and whisper to my belly, “I won’t let you ever feel that kind of pain. I promise.”

The baby became my anchor. My reason to keep breathing when the world felt too heavy. My chest still ached when I thought about him, but slowly, day by day, I learned how to exist without Dante Moretti.

---

It was a rainy afternoon when my life changed again.

I’d just left the bakery, balancing a paper bag filled with leftover pastries. The streets glistened, slick with rain. People hurried past, umbrellas bobbing like dark flowers. I didn’t have an umbrella, just my old coat pulled tight around me and my free hand on my stomach.

Then I saw them. Two men.

They stood near the corner of the street, dressed too clean, too sharp to be just passing through. Suits under their coats. They weren’t from here. They didn’t look like they belonged to this quiet little town.

And worse, I recognized the look in their eyes.

Predators wore the same gaze, no matter the city.

My heart thudded against my ribs. I ducked into a narrow alley between two buildings and pressed myself against the wet brick wall, my breath fogging in the cold air. I shouldn’t have run. Running always drew attention. But some instincts never left you once you’d been in Dante’s world.

Footsteps followed.

I cursed under my breath and glanced around. The alley opened to another street on the far end, but it was too exposed. My palms grew damp, and my pulse rushed in my ears. The bag of pastries slipped from my fingers, scattering warm rolls across the wet ground.

One of the men spoke, his voice too casual to be friendly. “Amara Russo.”

Hearing my name out loud after weeks of trying to bury it was like being doused in ice water.

I froze.

Another voice, closer this time. “We’ve been looking for you.”

I swallowed hard. I didn’t know if they worked for Dante. Or for someone worse. I didn’t care. All I knew was that they weren’t here to offer kindness.

I stepped back until my shoulders hit the wall. “I don’t know who you are,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Sure you do,” one of them replied with a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Our boss wants a word.”

Boss. That word tasted like poison.

My hand instinctively went to my belly. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

The grin widened. “You don’t really have a choice, sweetheart.”

Panic hit me like a wave, fast and cold. For a second, I wasn’t standing in that alley anymore. I was back in Dante’s office, hearing him say I was nothing. Feeling the world cave in.

But this time, I wasn’t just me.

I took a step forward, jaw clenched, every piece of fear hardening into something sharper. “Touch me, and I’ll make sure you regret it.”

The first man laughed like I was a kitten hissing at a wolf. He reached out.

Then, before I could move, a new voice cut through the rain.

“I suggest you listen to the lady.”

The men turned at the same time I did. A tall figure stood at the mouth of the alley, half-shadow, half-rain. He wore a long black coat, collar turned up, dark auburn hair damp from the downpour. There was something calm about the way he moved—too calm.

His eyes were the color of wet green glass.

“Who the hell are you?” one of the men barked.

He took a step closer, slow and unbothered, like he didn’t even consider them a threat. “The guy who doesn’t like the odds for you.” The other man scoffed. “Stay out of this.”

“You really don’t want me to do that,” he said softly. There was no threat in his tone. That made it worse.

The first man lunged toward him. A heartbeat later, he was on the ground, choking on his own breath. The stranger didn’t even look

winded. The second man swore and tried to pull a knife, but the stranger moved faster—one twist, one hit, and both men were lying in the rain, groaning.

He dusted his hands like he’d just taken out the trash.

I stared at him, stunned, heart pounding. “Who are you?”

He walked toward me, slow enough not to scare me, eyes steady on mine. Up close, his presence was sharp and quiet, the kind that didn’t need to shout to own a room.

“Luca Romano,” he said simply.

Romano. The name punched

through me like thunder. I’d heard it whispered in Dante’s world. The Romanos weren’t just anyone. They were his rivals. His enemies. The other half of the city’s blood.

I stiffened. “I don’t know you.”

He tilted his head slightly. “No. But I know who you are, Amara.”

My stomach dropped.

His gaze flicked briefly to the curve of my coat where my hand still rested protectively. “You’ve been running. Smart girl. But Bellavita has long arms.”

I took a step back. “If Dante sent you—”

He cut me off gently. “Dante Moretti doesn’t control me. I’m not here to hurt you.”

I didn’t trust him. Not even a little. But there was something in his voice—steady, controlled, like nothing could shake him—that made it hard to look away.

“You don’t have to believe me right now,” he added. “But those men? They weren’t the only ones looking for you. And they won’t be the last. Dante’s world doesn’t let go of its secrets that easily.”

I swallowed. “I’m not his anything anymore.”

His expression didn’t change, but his eyes softened in a way I didn’t expect. “That doesn’t mean you’re safe.”

Rain kept falling, soaking through my hair and coat. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed. The alley smelled like wet asphalt and danger.

“Why help me?” I asked.

He gave me a small, almost humorless smile. “Because sometimes, hurting him starts with protecting what he threw away.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I didn’t know if I wanted to.

He glanced down the alley, then back at me. “You can stay here and pretend the world won’t find you. Or you can come with me and at least have a fighting chance.”

My hand tightened around my coat. I didn’t want to need anyone. Especially not someone from Dante’s world.

But when I looked at the two men on the ground, bruised and groaning, I realized I didn’t have much of a choice.

---

Luca drove an expensive black car that didn’t belong in a small town. The seats smelled like leather and gunpowder. He didn’t ask questions, and I didn’t offer answers.

The silence between us wasn’t awkward. It was deliberate.

Controlled.

I watched raindrops slide down the window as the city blurred into darkness. My chest ached with the familiar sting of what I’d left behind. I’d built this quiet little life to pretend none of it existed. But Dante’s world had found me anyway.

Luca’s voice broke the silence. “How far along?”

I blinked, startled. “What?”

He didn’t look at me. His hands were steady on the wheel. “The baby.”

I hesitated, then answered softly, “About three months.”

He nodded once, like that was what he expected. “He doesn’t deserve either of you.”

The words hit something inside me I didn’t know I’d been holding together. My throat burned. “No. He doesn’t.”

For a while, neither of us spoke. But I felt his gaze on me when the car stopped at a red light. Not pitying. Calculating. Measuring.

“What’s your plan?” he asked.

I let out a shaky breath. “I didn’t have one. I just wanted to disappear.”

His jaw tightened. “That’s not enough anymore.”

We drove out of the city until the rain softened into a mist and the sky turned a deep indigo. When the car finally stopped, I stared at the massive villa ahead. Hidden behind iron gates and thick trees, it was both beautiful and terrifying.

“This is your safe house?” I asked quietly.

He gave a half-smile. “Something like that.”

I hesitated before stepping out. My boots sank into the wet gravel. The air smelled like pine and smoke. For the first time in weeks, I felt something strange. Not safety, exactly. But possibility.

As Luca opened the door for me, he said something that lodged itself in the back of my mind.

“You have a choice, Amara. You can keep running, or you can stop letting him write your story.”

I didn’t answer. But the words stayed with me as I followed him inside.

---

The room they gave me was warm and quiet, a far cry from my cold little apartment. I sat on the edge of the bed, hands pressed to my belly. For the first time, I wasn’t completely alone. I didn’t know if that was a good thing.

I lay back and stared at the ceiling, listening to the distant sound of rain against the windows. It still didn’t feel real.

Everything that happened with Dante… it felt like someone else’s life. Someone else’s heartbreak.

But the baby was real. My child was real.

And maybe, just maybe, this was where the old Amara ended. And something new began.