Aria's POV

I stared at the tea long after Isadora was gone, my fingers tight around the cup. My stomach twisted. Was I just being paranoid?

She had just threatened to kill me. Casually. Like it was just another item on her to-do list between a manicure and brunch.

I set the cup down carefully like it might explode, and got to my feet. The air felt too cold, or maybe that was just my body catching up to the fact that I had a full-blown psychopath after me. Either way, I was done sitting out here.

Upstairs, I could still hear the laughter. Leo’s. Lorenzo’s. And her daughter's.

I clenched my jaw.

Enough.

I knocked once before pushing the door open.

Leo sat on Lorenzo’s lap, grinning ear to ear, while the little girl was perched on his other leg like she belonged there. Maybe she did. I barely spared her a glance. I knew it was unfair to blame a child for her mother’s sins, but right now, I didn’t care.

“Come on, Leo, let’s go,” I said, holding out my hand.

His smile dropped. His big, pleading eyes darted to Lorenzo.

“Pleaseeee, let me stay with Daddy…”

Daddy.

The word hit me harder than I expected.

Lorenzo’s expression barely changed, but I caught the smile in his eyes before he turned to Leo. “How about you take your little sister and wait in my library? You can spend the night with me if you let me and Mommy talk first.”

Leo hesitated but eventually nodded, grabbing the little girl’s hand as they scampered out, giggling.

The second they were gone, Lorenzo stood up, but I was already wrapping my arms around myself, bracing for the argument.

“I should have been the one to tell him you were his dad,” I said, voice tight.

Lorenzo scoffed. “He already knew. He asks a lot of questions.”

“Well, he’s not spending the night with you in a room with that evil fiancée of yours!” I snapped, pointing at him for emphasis.

Lorenzo blinked at me, then tilted his head. “Did something happen between you two?”

I opened my mouth—then closed it.

"Oh, you know. Just a little light death threat over tea. No big deal. Lorenzo, she's crazy!" I exploded, throwing my hand up in frustration.

“Can I talk to her about this?”

Lorenzo’s voice was calm—too calm. Meanwhile, I was seconds away from exploding. My nostrils flaring as I glared daggers at him.

"That’s your problem, not mine, but I’m not staying here," I snapped. "You could have just handed me the divorce papers. I would’ve gladly signed them!"

"Who says I want you to sign them?"

I blinked. Then blinked again. Did I hear him right?

“What?” I scoffed, glancing around like someone else in the room might have an explanation for this madness. "You trying to be the first NYC man with two wives? Humor me, Lorenzo."

His lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. "Who says I’m getting married to her?"

I stilled. My gaze snapped back to him.

What was he saying? Did he lie to Isadora? Or was he just enjoying messing with my head?

"Lorenzo, you’re not making any sense. What the hell are you talking about?" I demanded, folding my arms as my pulse kicked up.

He stepped closer, his voice dropping a notch. "I know I wasn’t the best husband—”

"Understatement of the damn century."

He exhaled sharply but kept going. "But I’ve thought about you every single day since you left. I loved you. Then I hated you. Then I resented you. And then…I just wanted you back. I know I’m a jerk half the time—"

"More like all the time."

"Aria," he said my name like a warning. "When I saw him last night, holding that bat, calling me a monster, something in me snapped. I knew then that I wanted to be in his life. And yours."

My chest tightened, my head spinning. This was too much. Too sudden. Too…Lorenzo.

I stared at him, shaking my head. "You should’ve figured that out before you treated me like shit all those years."

His jaw clenched. "I know."

For a moment, neither of us spoke. Just silence. Thick and suffocating.

I hated this. Hated him. Hated that my heart was beating too damn fast.

"You're insane." I took a step back, shaking my head like it would somehow clear the madness in the air. "You have a fiancée, Lorenzo. A child. Do you really think I'm that stupid?"

"You don’t understand me and Isadora," he said, voice low, like he was letting me in on some big secret. "It’s complicated. I just need time—one or two months, Aria, and I’ll get rid of her for good. I just need her father to sign some documents, and I'll call off the engagement."

I stared at him. "Get rid of her?" Like she was a bad investment?

"And your daughter?" I folded my arms, daring him to say something that wouldn’t make me want to strangle him.

"I’ll get custody." His response was instant, like he’d already made up his mind.

A laugh bubbled out of me—dry, humorless. "I don’t believe you, Lorenzo. I don’t think I ever will. You talk like the court will give some shady Mafia guy custody of a child."

I saw the emotions in his eyes. Hurt. Frustration. Maybe even regret, but I continued either way.

"I don’t want anything to do with you that way," I continued, but even I didn’t believe myself. "And trust me, you don’t want me either. There are things you don’t know."

He stepped closer, his hand holding my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. His eyes searched mine, and I hated how easily he pulled me in, how my breath hitched at his touch. How much his scent affected me.

"You want this, Aria," he murmured, shaking his head with a knowing smirk. "Stop fighting it."

"I don’t," I croaked, but it was weak, a pathetic excuse for resistance when his gaze dropped to my lips.

Then he kissed me.

Soft at first, almost hesitant, but it lit a fire in my chest, one I thought had burned out years ago. Memories rushed in; nights tangled in his sheets, his hands on my skin, his voice whispering my name like a desperate mantra.

I deepened the kiss against my better judgement, my tongue tracing the seam of his lips, my body betraying me as his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer.

But then another wave of memories crashed in.

The cold mornings after. The way he wouldn’t even meet my eyes. The hollow feeling in my chest when he treated me like a stranger.

And then the door swung open.

I shoved him away, breathless, my heart thumping against my chest as I dusted off my clothes like I could wipe away what just happened. The sharp click of heels behind me sent a jolt of dread through my spine and I turned quickly.

Isadora stood in the doorway, eyes blazing, chest rising and falling like she was about to explode.

"You fucking whore!"