Page 90 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 5-8

But he wants to have dinner with me. Which almost feels like a kindness.

Though in his world, I’m not quite sure what constitutes a kindness.

I make my way to his grandmother’s bedroom, and then I go into the closet, and I find myself absolutely spoiled for choice. There are so many beautiful dresses. I love the signature pink and gold that Liliana Estrada used. I’m so inspired by the cleverness of the design. The simplicity that’s so timeless. But I also know that I’m going to have to pick a gown that is loose around the stomach.

I find one with a more flowing design, one designed to fall away from the stomach, and I slip that on, zipping up the back, and admiring myself in the mirror. With the way that the panels of fabric fall, you almost can’t tell that I’m pregnant. For a moment, I can just pretend. That I’m a woman who met this man by chance, perhaps on the street in Rome. That we talked, and flirted and then he spirited me off to his vacation home.

I laugh. Yes. What a great thing to romanticize. My Mafia kidnap and forced impregnation.

I make my way down to the dining room, and find it empty.

“He’s on the terrace,” says Pietro, the chef, who clearly heard me come into the room.

“Oh. Thank you.”

“I trust dinner will be to your liking?”

“Everything has been to my liking.”

And I am still turning over how true that is as I walk out to the stunning terrace that overlooks the dense jungle below.

“Oh,” I say, looking at the spread of fresh fruit on the table, and what looks like a lovely steamed fish and rice.

“This looks amazing.”

He inclines his head, and stands, pulling my chair out for me, and I think for a moment it says strange things about the world that a man raised to do crime has demonstrated more chivalry to me than any other man I’ve come across.

“Thank you,” I say.

“Of course. And how was your day?”

“Civility! How nice. It was lovely. Thank you. How was your attempt to dismantle all that is evil in the world?”

“I can’t say that it was very eventful.”

“Well, that is too bad.”

“It will come together. Right now, things are just moving more slowly than I would like.”

“What is your ultimate goal?”

“My ultimate goal is to get the most major crime families to sign a treaty. To try to make alliances. To go legitimate.”

“And is that likely?”

“I don’t know if it’s likely or not, but it is what has to happen. And anyone who opposes it cannot be allowed to remain. But I do have hope.”

“Oh.”

“My goal is not only the safety of our child, but of all the children that are trapped in these systems. And children like you,” he says.

I look at him, squinting. “What do you mean?”

“It’s all part of the same ecosystem. Your parents might be the very bottom of this chain of drugs, but they are still part of it. Families like mine help fuel and create this crisis. Families like yours are victimized by it, and then step into it to try to manipulate it. Make it pay for itself.”

“I don’t really blame large crime syndicates for my parents dealing drugs in the middle of nowhere. I mean, maybe I could, but the way that I see it so much of it is about poverty. Desperation. When I’m feeling charitable, I can understand why they are the way they are. They never felt like they had any hope. And if you don’t have hope, you might as well live fast in the hopes that you die young.”

“But they had you.”