Page 33 of Stolen Queen

“I think someone has her.”

I swallow. “You mean like kidnapped her?”

“Maybe. Or protecting her. Do we know anything about her contacts with others in our world? Maybe one of her father’s men has her hidden away. Or another family.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “Our intel is that Rinella kept a tight leash on her.” I think about that night in the club and how others would have seen her. Seen me with her. It’s only a matter of time before my deception is revealed. Perhaps I should confess everything now. Would Elio let me continue to protect her or force me to hand her over?

He sighs. “Again, not our problem.”

Piper pokes her head into his office. “Dinner is ready.”

Elio’s smile shows all the love he has for Piper. He stands and goes to her, giving her a kiss as he rubs her belly round with child. “We’ll be right there.”

When she leaves, Elio turns to me. “Why don’t you join us? It’s been awhile since you’ve stayed for dinner.”

“Sorry. Hot date.” I rise from my chair.

Elio laughs. “You know, you’re the only one of us not settled down. Perhaps it’s time you think of finding a wife.”

I make a gagging sound. “Not gonna happen. Besides, someone's got to keep the ladies of Chicago entertained, right?"

Elio rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of amusement in his voice. "You're telling me you're not even a little jealous? Watching all of us settle down while you're still out there playing the field?"

"Nah, man," I say, patting his shoulder. "I'm living the dream. Different girl every night, no strings attached. Why would I want to give that up?"

"Because it's lonely," Elio says, his tone turning serious.

I shrug, trying to brush off his concern. "Maybe for you. But I'm not built for all that domestic bliss stuff. I like my freedom too much." What’s really strange is that until recently, that was true. But saying it now feels like a lie.

"Freedom to do what?" Elio challenges. "Hit up the same clubs, fuck the same type of girls who don't give a damn about you?"

His words hit a little too close to home, but I refuse to let it show. "Hey, not everyone wants the white picket fence and 2.5 kids. The nagging."

Elio holds up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. I'm just saying, don't close yourself off to the possibility. You might be surprised."

I force a grin, hoping to end this line of conversation. "Trust me, I'm plenty open. To all kinds of possibilities, if you know what I mean." I waggle my brows.

“You’re a man whore.”

“A card carrying man whore.”

Elio's words echo in my mind as I leave his office. My secret feels like a lead weight dragging me down. I've never kept anything this big from him before. We've always had each other's back, no matter what. But this… this would changeeverything. All I can think about is his having to kill me. I’d hate to put him in the position to have to be the one to end my life.

I grip the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white. Part of me wants to turn around, go back to Elio, and confess everything. He's always been the voice of reason, the one who could see the bigger picture. Maybe he'd know what to do.

But then I think of Ava, a prisoner of her asshole father who’ll torment her and then send her to Nardone, who’ll likely end up killing her. No, I can't tell Elio. Not yet. The risk is too great. If keeping this secret means protecting Ava and our family, then that's what I have to do.

I pull into my parking spot, killing the engine but not immediately getting out. My mind's racing, trying to figure out how to handle this mess I've gotten myself into with Ava.

For the past week, I've been giving her space, hoping she'd come around on her own. But that clearly isn't working. Every time I bring her food or craft supplies, I see the fear and resentment in her eyes. She thinks I'm the bad guy here, and honestly, I can't blame her.

I run a hand through my hair, frustrated with myself. I need a new approach, something that'll show her I'm not the monster she thinks I am.

Maybe… maybe I've been going about this all wrong. Keeping my distance might've seemed like the right move, but it's probably just making her feel more isolated and scared. I need to talk to her. Really talk to her. Explain why I did what I did, even if she doesn't want to hear it.

As I step out of the car and head for the elevator, I start formulating a plan. The elevator doors open, and I step to the door of my penthouse, determined to try something new. It could backfire spectacularly. She could scream at me, throw things, try to escape again. But I have to try. I can't keep herlocked up forever, living in fear of me. That's not what I want for her.

As I approach her room, I take a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever reaction I might get.

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