The temptation of my brother-in-law-Chapter 197 - One Hundred and Ninety-Seven

Chapter One Hundred and Ninety-Seven

Alicia’s POV

Morning light filtered through the curtains. Warm. Soft. Peaceful.

I woke up slowly, awareness returning in pieces. The comfortable bed. The unfamiliar room. The weight of an arm across my waist.

Malachi.

He was still here. Still real. Still sleeping beside me with his face pressed into my hair.

I stayed very still, not wanting to wake him. Just wanting this moment. This quiet, perfect moment before the world intruded.

His breathing was deep and even. Completely relaxed in a way I’d never seen him. Even in sleep, Malachi always seemed coiled. Ready. Alert.

But not now. Now he looked peaceful. Almost young.

I put my hand on my stomach. Still flat. But the baby was there. Growing. Real.

Our baby.

The thought didn’t terrify me anymore. Somewhere between yesterday and this morning, the fear had shifted into something else. Not gone. Just different.

Malachi stirred. His arm tightened around me. "You’re awake."

"How did you know?"

"Your breathing changed." He opened his eyes. Dark and clear and focused entirely on me. "Morning."

"Morning."

"Did you sleep?"

"Better than I have in weeks."

"Me too." He pressed a kiss to my shoulder. "We should get up. Your grandmother will want to feed us."

"She wants to feed everyone. All the time."

"Italian grandmothers. They express love through food."

I smiled. Turned to face him. "Are you ready for this? For them? For a whole family who’s going to have opinions about everything?"

"Are you asking if I’m ready for people who care about you? Who’ll protect you? Who give you the family you’ve always deserved?" He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Yes. I’m ready for that."

"Even though they’ll probably hate you at first?"

"They don’t hate me. Alessandro wants to. Marco is suspicious. But your grandmother? She already likes me."

"How do you know?"

"She gave me a second helping of pasta last night. That’s acceptance in any language."

I laughed. Actually laughed. When was the last time I’d done that?

"Come on," he said. "Let’s face the day."

We got dressed and went downstairs. The kitchen was already full of people.

Signora Moretti at the stove. Sophie at the table with homework. Alessandro reading the newspaper. Marco on the phone speaking rapid Italian.

They all looked up when we walked in.

"Good morning," Signora Moretti said warmly. "Sit. I’m making eggs."

"You don’t have to—"

"I want to. Sit."

We sat. Marco finished his call and joined us.

"How did you sleep?" he asked Malachi. The question was polite but his eyes were assessing.

"Well. Your home is very comfortable."

"It’s Alicia’s home too now. And Sophie’s. They’re family."

"I know. Thank you for taking care of them when I couldn’t."

Something shifted in Marco’s expression. Maybe respect. Maybe just acknowledgment.

"Someone had to. But you’re here now. So the question is what happens next."

"Marco," Signora Moretti said warningly.

"No, it’s fine," Malachi said. "He’s right to ask. What happens next is up to Alicia. I go where she goes. Do what she needs."

"And if she wants to stay in Italy?"

"Then I’ll figure out how to make that work."

"Your business is in America."

"My business can be managed from anywhere. What I can’t manage from anywhere is being away from her. From our child."

Marco studied him for a long moment. Then nodded. "Good answer."

Breakfast arrived. We ate mostly in silence. Comfortable silence. The kind families have.

I was scraping the last of my eggs when Malachi’s phone rang. He looked at the screen. His expression changed.

"I need to take this." He stepped out of the room.

Alessandro watched him go. "Is he always that tense?"

"When work calls? Yes."

"What kind of work exactly?"

"The kind you don’t ask about."

"Like our work?"

I looked at him. At my uncle. At this man who was part of a world similar to Malachi’s. "Exactly like your work."

He nodded. Didn’t push.

Malachi came back in. His face was carefully neutral but I could see the tension in his shoulders.

"What’s wrong?" I asked.

"Zhao didn’t leave Europe."

The room went cold.

"What do you mean he didn’t leave?" Marco asked.

"My people tracked him to France. He’s still there. Still gathering resources. Still planning something."

"He accepted your offer," I said. "He walked away."

"He lied. Or changed his mind. Either way, he’s still a threat."

Sophie’s fork clattered against her plate. "So what do we do?"

"We?" Malachi looked at her. "You stay here. Stay safe. Let me handle this."

"That’s what you said last time. And he still got close enough to threaten us."

"Sophie—"

"No. I’m tired of hiding. Tired of being scared. If he’s coming, I want to know the plan. I want to help."

"Absolutely not," I said. "You’re seventeen. You’re not getting involved in this."

"I’m already involved. He threatened me. Sent that photo. I’m part of this whether you like it or not."

She was right. As much as I hated it, she was right.

Malachi’s phone buzzed. He looked at it. His jaw tightened. Then he showed me the screen.

A message. From an unknown number.

*I gave you a chance. You should have killed me when you had the opportunity. Now I’m coming for what’s mine. - Z*

Below it, another photo. Of the estate. Taken this morning. From outside the gates.

He was here. Watching. Right now.

"He’s outside," Marco said, already moving. "Alessandro, get security. Lock down the estate. No one in or out."

Alessandro was already on his phone, barking orders in Italian.

Malachi pulled me close. "I need you to go upstairs. Take Sophie. Lock the door. Don’t come out until I tell you it’s safe."

"No."

"Alicia—"

"No. I’m not hiding anymore. I’m not letting you face this alone."

"You’re pregnant. You need to protect our baby."

"And you need to understand that our baby needs both parents. Not just one."

We stared at each other. A standoff.

"She’s right," Marco said. "This is her home. Her family. She has a right to defend it."

"She’s not a fighter—"

"Neither was my sister. But she was brave. And smart. And she made her own choices." Marco looked at me. "Do you know how to use a weapon?"

"Yes."

Malachi’s head whipped toward me. "What?"

"My father taught me. Before he died. Said every woman should know how to protect herself."

"You never told me that."

"You never asked."

Alessandro returned. "Security is in position. Extra men on every entrance. Gates are locked. We’re as secure as we can be."

"But?" Malachi asked.

"But if Zhao is determined, if he brought enough people, he’ll find a way in. They always do."

"Then we set a trap. Let him think he can get in. Be ready when he does."

"You want to use Alicia as bait."

"No. I want to end this. Permanently. And the only way to do that is to draw him out. Make him come to us."

"On our terms," Marco added. "In our house. Where we have the advantage."

They started planning. Speaking quickly. Strategically. I watched Malachi transform. Watched the man I loved become the weapon his family had trained him to be.

It should have scared me. Should have reminded me why I ran.

Instead, I felt safer. Because this time, he wasn’t fighting for power or territory or revenge.

He was fighting for us. For our baby. For our future.

That made all the difference.

"Alicia."

I looked up. Signora Moretti stood beside me. She’d been quiet through all of this.

"Come with me," she said.

I followed her to her sitting room. She closed the door.

"I need to tell you something," she said. "About your mother. About the night she left."

"Now?"

"Especially now. Because you need to understand. Your mother didn’t run because she was weak. She ran because she was strong. Because she knew that sometimes the bravest thing you can do is choose your own path. Even when it terrifies you."

"I’m not running."

"I know. You’re standing. You’re fighting. That takes a different kind of courage. The kind your mother had. The kind I wish I’d recognized before I lost her."

She pulled out a box. Old. Wooden. Carved with the Moretti crest.

"This was hers. She left it behind when she ran. I’ve kept it all these years. Hoping someday I’d give it to her. But now... now it’s yours."

I opened the box. Inside were photos. Letters. A necklace.

And a gun. Small. Silver. Elegant.

"She knew," I whispered. "She knew she might need to protect herself."

"She knew that loving a man from a dangerous world meant being prepared for danger. So she prepared. She learned. She became strong."

I picked up the gun. It fit perfectly in my hand. Like it was made for me.

"Are you telling me to fight?"

"I’m telling you to survive. However you need to. Whatever that looks like." She closed my hand around the gun. "Your mother would want you to live. To protect your child. To do whatever necessary to have the life you choose."

"Even if that means violence?"

"Especially then. Violence isn’t always wrong, Alicia. Sometimes it’s just necessary."

A knock on the door. Malachi.

"They’re here," he said. "Zhao’s people just breached the south gate. This is happening now."

I stood up. Checked the gun. Made sure it was loaded.

"Alicia, what are you doing?"

"What’s necessary."

I walked past him. Back to the main room where Marco and Alessandro were coordinating security.

"Where do you need me?" I asked.

They all stared at me. At the gun in my hand.

"Absolutely not," Malachi said. "You’re going upstairs. You’re staying out of this."

"No. I’m staying right here. This is my home. My family. My fight. And I’m not hiding."

"You’re pregnant—"

"Which makes this even more important. Our baby deserves to grow up in a world where their mother stood up instead of cowering. Where their mother fought for what mattered."

Sophie appeared. "I’m staying too."

"Sophie—"

"Stop trying to protect me from everything. I’m not a child. And I’m not leaving my sister."

Malachi looked at me. At Sophie. At this impossible situation.

Then he made a decision.

"Fine. But you both stay behind me. You don’t engage unless absolutely necessary. And if I tell you to run, you run. Understood?"

"Understood."

He pulled me close. Kissed my forehead. "Don’t make me regret this."

"I won’t."

Alessandro’s radio crackled. "They’re inside. Multiple hostiles. Heading toward the main house."

"Positions," Marco ordered.

Everyone moved. Found cover. Prepared.

I stood next to Malachi. Gun ready. Heart pounding.

This was it. The moment everything changed.

The moment I stopped being the victim and became something else.

Something stronger.

The door exploded inward.

And Zhao Wei stepped through, surrounded by armed men, smiling like he’d already won.

"Hello, Alicia," he said. "I’ve been waiting for this moment for a very long time."