Lorenzo’s POV

She had my child, and she never told me.

That should have been the first thing on my mind, the betrayal, the sheer audacity. But all I could hear was that kid’s voice.

"Mom, is the monster hurting you again?"

I almost laughed. Not because it was funny, nothing about this was, but because after everything I’d done, after everything I’d built, my own son didn’t even know me.

He stood there, barefoot in stupid pajamas, gripping a plastic bat like he was ready to swing at me.

Jesus.

Aria hadn’t just run. She had erased me.

My gaze snapped to her, but she was already moving, stepping forward, trying to shield him.

"Leo, go back to bed," she said, softly, trying to soothe him.

He didn’t move. His tiny chin lifted, stubborn. His grip on the bat tightened.

"Mommy Is this the man you were hiding from?"

Aria stiffened. My head tilted.

Oh.

That’s what she’d told him. That’s how she explained all the running, all the hiding.

I met her gaze. "You’ve been telling him bedtime stories about me?"

Silence.

Then, before I could stop myself; I laughed. A sharp, humorless sound that scraped its way up my throat.

Leo flinched.

My voice came out quiet, humbled. "How old is he?"

She hesitated. Just for a second. Just long enough for me to see it.

"How. Old. Is he?"

Her throat bobbed. "He just turned four, I was four months gone when I ran."

I did the math before I could stop myself.

My stomach twisted. It made sense, it was four and a half year since she disappeared.

"You're lying," I said flatly. "You expect me to believe you were carrying my child, and you still ran?" This was me bargaining, trying to lie to myself even when everything pointed at it.

Her jaw clenched. "I escaped, Lorenzo."

A sharp, bitter laugh left me. "Escaped?" I stepped closer. "From what, exactly?"

She lifted her chin, defiant. "You hated me, the only time you ever treated me right was during sex, and even then, I could see the disgust in your eyes after we were done."

"And you think that justifies what you did?" My voice rose now, the pressure in my chest building. "You kept my son from me. You made me think you were dead."

"Because I had to!" she snapped. "You would have never let me go! You would have locked me in that house and made my life hell just to spite my father."

I took a deep breath. She wasn’t wrong.

I would have never let her go.

But that didn’t mean she was right. It didn’t mean she had the right to take my child from me.

I looked at the little boy hiding behind her again, and I made up my mind.

I bent down, picking up the duffel bag she had dropped earlier. The one packed with cash, fake IDs, everything she needed to disappear again.

I tossed it onto the bed and met her wide, panicked eyes.

"Pack your bags, Aria." I was done talking.

"We’re going home."

***

Aria's POV

"I'm not coming with you, Lorenzo." I shook my head, took a step back, and tried to keep my voice steady.

Lorenzo turned to me, his eyes cold and unreadable. Then he scoffed. "You can either come with me, or say goodbye to Leo. Either both of you are coming, or he’s coming alone with me."

There it was. That tone. The one that meant don’t argue, don’t push. Just obey.

My stomach twisted. Fear curled in my throat.

"Mommy, I don't want to go anywhere with him alone. Mommy, don’t let him take me," Leo whimpered, pressing into me like he could disappear into my skin. His grip was so tight it hurt.

Lorenzo looked at him then, I could see the hurt in his eyes, but he turned away fast.

I needed to think.

The window, I could go through the slightly open window.

The car that had been trailing me the past week was gone.

My pulse pounded. If I ran now...

A loud shot and the sound of glass shattering stopped me.

I hit the floor, dragging Leo down with me, covering his body with mine. He screamed—high, panicked, the kind of sound that clawed at my soul.

Another shot. Then another. The air reeked of gunpowder.

Lorenzo moved like he’d been expecting it. Gun already in his hand, his body positioned between me and the chaos outside.

The room door slammed open.

"Boss!" One of his men stumbled in, blood smeared across his arm. "We need to move. Now. Two of ours are down—"

Of course. Of course, this was happening. Bad things always happened around Lorenzo, that's why I'd escaped in the first place.

Lorenzo didn’t even hesitate. He turned to me, gun still in hand, voice flat. "Let’s go."

I didn’t have a choice.

Staying here meant keeping myself in harm’s way, and I couldn’t let Lorenzo take Leo alone. So I ran after him, clutching Leo tight against my hip as we rushed out the back door of the kitchen.

Lorenzo turned, snatching Leo from my arms as we crouched low, moving toward the front of the house. A gunshot cracked through the night, narrowly missing Lorenzo. He fired back without hesitation. A pained groan followed—one of the attackers was hit.

Keeping low, Lorenzo reached the side of a sleek black car, yanked the door open, and shoved Leo inside before crawling in himself. I scrambled in after him. The second I was in, the engine roared to life, and Lorenzo floored it.

The first bullet shattered the side-view mirror.

I yanked Leo down, shielding him as best as I could. A glance at the rearview mirror sent dread clawing at my throat.

Lorenzo’s men were following in a dark SUV, shooting at the car behind them—a smaller, dark sedan filled with armed men. The sedan swerved aggressively, trying to break past the SUV and reach us.

Gunfire erupted between the two trailing cars. Lorenzo’s men were holding them off, but the sedan was gaining.

Then—bam!

A perfect shot.

Lorenzo’s men hit one of the sedan’s tires. The car wobbled but kept going. Another shot rang out, this one hitting the back wheel.

The sedan jerked violently, the driver struggling to maintain control.

Tires screeched. The car skidded sideways before crashing into a streetlight with a deafening crunch.

Lorenzo didn’t slow down.

I let out a shaky breath, still holding Leo close as our car sped through the dark streets.

The drive to Lorenzo’s private jet felt endless. My heart pounded the whole way, my mind racing with ways to escape, but there was nothing I could do.

The flight was worse.

Nine hours trapped in the sky with nowhere to run. I kept my body tense, staring out the window at the city I was being forced to leave behind and a tear slid down my cheek, but I wiped it away before anyone could see.

Leo, of course, had no idea what was really happening. To him, Lorenzo had just saved us, swooping in like a hero. "You must be Superman!" he had said, eyes wide with excitement. Now, he practically bounced in his seat, talking Lorenzo’s ear off about football.

“And then, Mom said that if I keep practicing, I could be as fast as Mbappé!” Leo grinned.

Lorenzo chuckled, watching him with something I couldn’t place. “Mbappé, huh? Well, you’ve got good taste, kid.”

For a moment, I just watched them. My son so easily falling into a rhythm with him. Like he wasn’t the same man I had spent years running from.

I turned away, gripping the armrest tight.

I hated this.

I hated that Lorenzo was already finding a way in.

I hated that I had no way out.

The sun was rising when the plane landed in New York City. My stomach twisted.

Lorenzo wasted no time. A black SUV was waiting, his men moving fast, giving me no chance to think, let alone escape.

The drive felt endless, the city shifting into quieter, wealthier streets. Then we pulled up to a mansion—his mansion.

Leo squeezed my hand as we stepped out. My pulse pounding in my ears as I took in the surroundings, it had not changed at all.

Then the front doors burst open.

A woman came running.

Not just a woman, a little girl too.

Straight into Lorenzo’s arms.

A massive diamond sitting on the finger she threw around Lorenzo's neck.