When the Mafia Boss Returned with a Pregnant Mistress

Avery's POV

She lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug, satisfaction curling her mouth into something ugly and pleased.

“Still more than you’ll ever touch,” she said lightly.

That was the moment everything shattered.

I slapped the phone out of her hand. It flew across the room and struck the marble floor with a sharp crack, skidding until the screen spider-webbed uselessly.

I didn’t think. I didn’t plan.

My body surged forward on pure fury.

My fingers wrapped around her throat, tightening before my mind could register what I was doing. Rage thundered through me so violently it stole my breath, drowned out reason, drowned out fear.

The small black bottle slipped from Nina’s grasp and hit the floor with a hollow clink. The cap rolled once.

Then—

The smell detonated.

Gasoline.

Sharp and vicious, tearing through the air like a blade. It burned my nostrils, clawed down my throat, spread across the room in an instant like something alive and hungry.

We crashed into each other—hands shoving, nails tearing, bodies slamming into furniture. She kicked wildly, heel striking metal. Maybe a lighter. Maybe stone against steel.

Whatever it was, it was enough.

The fire didn’t pause.

Flames erupted violently, racing up the curtains, leaping along the walls as if they’d been waiting for an excuse. Heat slammed into my skin. Smoke poured in thick and black, devouring the room.

My body failed me.

Still weak. Still drained.

My lungs seized. I dropped hard to the floor, coughing so violently it felt like my ribs would split open. The world spun—fire, shadow, choking darkness folding in on itself.

The last thing I saw before everything blurred was the ceiling igniting, flames crawling across it like something sentient.

“Avery!”

A voice tore through the smoke.

“Don, it’s not safe!” someone shouted. “The soldiers are coming—you can’t go in there!”

“Get out of my way!” Zachary roared. “She’s still inside!”

I tried to open my eyes.

Was it real? Or just my mind breaking under smoke and terror? Had he really said my name? Had he actually come for me?

“Z-Zachary…” Nina sobbed weakly. “I’m here too. Please. Save me. Save our child.”

For one treacherous heartbeat, hope flared.

Stupid. Fragile. Deadly.

I wanted to believe—just for a second—that he’d run into fire for me. That I still mattered enough to be chosen.

Then the truth crashed down hard.

He didn’t come because of me.

He came because eyes were watching. Because word would spread through the famiglia. Because the press would feast on it. Because a Don couldn’t afford to look like a coward who abandoned women to flames.

And the moment Nina called out?

There was no hesitation.

He lifted her like she weighed nothing, shielding her from smoke and heat, carrying her out as if she were priceless—

While I lay choking on the floor, darkness closing in.

Time fractured.

Minutes—or longer—passed in a haze.

After ensuring she was safe, he tore through the estate, barking orders, shouting my name, searching every wing.

But I was already gone.

I don’t know how I escaped.

Fire roared in my ears, smoke shredding my throat, dizziness crashing over me in brutal waves. But something raw took control—instinct stripped bare.

I crawled.

Dragged myself forward inch by inch.

My fingers brushed against my bag. I grabbed it with shaking hands and clutched it to my chest like it was the last thing anchoring me to life.

A window nearby had cracked from the heat.

I hurled myself through it.

Glass ripped into my skin as I hit the lawn outside, rolling hard, gasping. My legs collapsed. My chest burned like it was on fire.

But I was alive.

I didn’t look back.

Some service corridor must’ve been untouched—or the fire simply hadn’t reached it yet. I barely remember. Just stumbling through darkness free of smoke, barely upright, until I found the rear exit.

Cold night air slammed into my face as I fell outside, coughing until my body shook violently.

No one saw me.

No one followed.

And I didn’t stop.

Not when my knees buckled. Not when I had to cling to street signs, brace against parked cars, drag myself forward step by step. I kept going because I knew—deep in my bones—that if I stopped, if they found me again, I wouldn’t survive a second time.

I vanished into the city.

Hours later, I boarded a flight bound for the Northern Territories.

Just before takeoff, my phone vibrated.

A message from Don Zachary.

[Stop playing games, Avery. I don’t have time for this.]

I stared at the screen, feeling absolutely nothing.

Then I powered the phone off, leaned back as the plane began to move—

and finally let the distance carry me away.