“You are going to the safe house, Alessia.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head.

“She helped Marcus ruin my life. She drew up the papers that took everything from me.”

“I want to be there when she falls.”

Dante stared at me, his dark eyes searching my face.

He looked down at my stomach again, the silent concern clear in his eyes.

“It’s too dangerous,” he said.

“I can handle it,” I insisted.

“I just proved that.”

He looked at Evelyn, who was still pinned under the pipe, and then at Marcus, who was trembling on the floor.

Dante let out a slow breath.

“Fine,” he said.

“But you stay behind me.”

“Always,” I said.

Dante turned to his men.

“Bring them to the warehouse office. Keep them secured until I return.”

“What about the police?” Marcus asked, his voice rising in panic.

“They won’t be coming here,” Dante said simply.

He took my hand, his fingers locking with mine.

His hand was warm and dry compared to the cold cellar air.

We walked up the wooden stairs together, leaving the dark cellar behind.