Antonio pov

I observed from the darkness, a deliberate, measured grin forming on my face. Dante was coming apart. Every muscle in his body was tense, quivering with fury as he looked at the child—the irrefutable evidence of Lia’s treachery. Their child. I released a puff of smoke, tapping the ashes off my cigar. Ideal. “Dante,” Lia’s voice trembled, brimming with fear. "Please… refrain from doing this." Dante's gaze shot up, his jaw clenching. "What shouldn't I do, Lia?" His ...