Page 13 of Mafia Heir's Broken Vows

"From what?" I snap, the anger bubbling to the surface. "From me?"

Her silence is answer enough.

"You think I would hurt him?" He's a child.

"I think you'd drag him into the same world that destroyed you!"

Her voice cracks, raw and full of venom. But behind it, there's fear. Not for herself—for her son.

I take a step forward, closing the distance between us.

"You kept him from me.Why?"

Her jaw clenches. "Because this—this life of yours—it ruins everything it touches. And because you were gone, you left, and the rest of us kept living. I grew up, had a kid, started a business. Things didn't stop when you left us."

I grip the photo tighter, the glass breaking beneath my fingers.

"He deserves to know who his father is." I deserved to know I had a son.

Her eyes blaze. "And what good would that do him? You think telling him his father is a killer will make him safer?" She pauses, "He's better off without a father, men like his father ruin lives."

The accusation is painful to hear, but I can't argue. Because she's right.

I take another step,now inches away from her.

"Tell me the truth, Serafina. Is he mine?"

Her lips press into a thin line, eyes locked on mine. The tension in the room ramps up, her fucking defiant silence angers me more than anything she could say.

"Answer me!"

She flinches, barely, but she lifts her chin in defiance. "No. He's not yours, you left, and I moved on. Are you happy now?"

A lie.I see it in the flicker of her eyes, the way her hands tremble at her sides. She's always been a terrible liar.

My grip tightens on the photo frame, and the glass starts to fall from the frame. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying."

"The hell you aren't." I throw the photo back onto the table with a sharp thud. "That boy has my eyes."

Her breathing quickens, but she holds her ground. The silent stare between us says more than words ever could.

"You should have told me," I growl.

Her arms cross tightly over her chest, like armor. "If he was yours? What would you have done, Alessandro? Dragged us both into your family's war? He's not yours."

My fists clench at my sides. "I would have protected him. Protected you both."

Her bitter laugh echoes in the still room. "Like you protected me before? Like you protected my brother? We don't need protection, certainly not from you."

I turn away, pacing the small room, my thoughts a hurricane of anger. Marco. The attacks. And now this.

"You should have told me," I repeat, quieter this time.

"And what would that have changed?" she fires back. "Would you have run back into my life like a hero? Brought your enemies to our doorstep? He's not yours, he is mine."

"I would have fought for you!" The words burst out before I can stop them.

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