Page 98 of Accidental Alliance

His suit is as immaculate as it was the last time I’d seen him, this one a charcoal gray with no tie and the shirt open at the collar.

There is a wedding ring on his finger that catches the morning light when he lifts his hand in greeting, though I vaguely remember his wife dying over a decade ago.

“Isabella,” he says, a slight smile curling his lips. “It’s so nice to see you. Though, I am sorry for the circumstances.”

My arms tighten around Matteo. “Me too.”

Davide’s eyes lower briefly to Matteo, careful enough not to linger. That restraint is the first kindness anyone has offered me since this mess began. Firelight burns low in the hearth despite the morning sun beginning to creep through the windows.

The walls are lined with bookshelves, the dark wood gleaming beneath the soft glow. Everything smells faintly of coffee and cedar polish.

It should feel comforting after the Conti safehouse, but it doesn’t. It’s simply a prettier cage than the last one I found myself inside.

I settle down on the couch near the window and shift Matteo in my arms. My body protests the movement, pain blooming through my hip and shoulder, both throbbing in time with my pulse. Matteo leans back from me to look around again, his eyes growing more curious than scared.

Davide turns his head toward the guard who escorted us in. “Thank you. Please let the kitchen know food and water are to be brought over immediately. And have housekeeping make up beds and bring a fresh change of clothes for them both.”

The guard gives a firm nod before leaving, pulling the door softly shut behind him.

He joins us a moment later, taking the opposite couch across the way. “Once you’re both fed, I’ll have my guards escort you to your room. I’m sure you’re both exhausted.”

I cannot help sinking back into the couch. After the cot and being trapped in that cold room, the couch feels like a luxury. Fatigue hits me in heavy waves, pulling at my muscles and blurring the edges of the room.

After convincing the front desk at the motel to lend me their phone, I called the number I’d memorized from Davide’s card immediately. As strange as it had been to hear Davide answer on the other end, relief had washed over me so deeply, it nearly buckled my knees. I’d only half explained the situation Matteo and I had gotten caught up in before he cut me off.

“Where are you?” he’d asked.

The moment I told him, he’d given me the address to this safehouse. Now sitting across from him, everything that happened at the Conti safehouse feels surreal.

“Thank you,” I say to him.

Davide inclines his head. “I’m just glad you both made it out alive.”

The window beside us overlooks the front drive where morning has fully broken over the grounds. Sunlight gleams on the gravel and black cars parked on the drive. Beyond the stone wall, trees sway gently in the wind.

The beautiful day feels almost obscene.

The door opens a few minutes later and a woman enters with a tray. She is older with silver-streaked hair pulled neatly back and kind eyes she does not let linger on my face too long when she smiles at me.

She places the food and water on the table in front of us. The plates are filled with eggs, toast, fruit, and small pastries dusted with sugar.

She leaves as quietly as she entered.

I pick up a piece of toast and hand it to Matteo. “Eat.”

He takes it slowly and nibbles the crust obediently. I put a small plate in his lap and keep one hand near his knee as he eats. Only then do I take a sip of coffee. The warmth hits my tongue and nearly makes me cry.

Davide waits until Matteo has eaten half the toast before speaking again.

“I need to know exactly what happened.”

My hand tightens around the coffee cup. “We were taken in the middle of the day about two weeks ago. Since then, we’ve been trapped inside one of the Contis’ safehouses that is about half an hour from here. From what I’ve gathered, they’ve had surveillance on you for a while. When you stopped by my house, they took that as an opportunity to take us for interrogation.”

His voice lowers. “I am sorry, Isabella. I should have been more proactive in making sure you remained safe after my visit.” He hesitates before adding, “It was never my intention to put either of you in any danger.”

Logically, I know that. Davide was not the one to drag us out of our house and separate me from my son. He did not keep Matteo under guard and away from me as a way to pressure me into spilling whatever secrets he believed I held for the enemy.

Unfortunately, logic has never been good at soothing harsh truths. Over the past few weeks, I have begun growing tired of feeling empathy toward those around me causing my son and me pain, even if inadvertently.