Chapter One Hundred and Eighty-Three
Malachi's POV
The jet touched down in Rome at three in the morning local time.
I hadn't slept. Couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Alicia. Pregnant. Alone. Working herself to exhaustion while carrying my child.
Our child.
The words still didn't feel real.
Maurice had spent the flight working his contacts. Gathering intelligence. Building a picture of what we were walking into.
"The Moretti estate is about forty-five minutes outside the city," he said as we disembarked. "High security. Guards. Gates. The family is old money. Connected. Not people you want to cross."
"I don't care who they are."
"You should. They're not going to just let you walk in and take her."
"I'm not taking her anywhere. I just need to see her. Make sure she's safe."
Maurice gave me a look that said he didn't believe me. I didn't blame him. I barely believed myself.
A car was waiting. Black. Nondescript. Maurice had arranged everything.
