The Ex Who Stole My Delivery Room - Chapter 13: Chapter 13

I froze in place, the waiter's words ringing in my ears. Russo owned this restaurant? Suddenly everything clicked into place - this man wielded power and influence beyond what I'd imagined.
Cindy's face flushed crimson with fury. "This is outrageous!" she sputtered. "You can't just throw us out!"
Russo's lips curved into an amused smile, his eyes glinting. "Actually, darling, I can. And I will. Tonight is special for my girlfriend, and I won't let anyone spoil it." His arm snaked around my waist, pulling me close enough to feel his body heat. A shiver ran down my spine as our eyes locked, momentarily making me forget everything else.
The waiter bowed slightly. "My apologies, sir. I'll see them out immediately."
As Harris, Cindy, and Layla were escorted away, the waiter returned beaming. "Dinner will be ready shortly, Mr. Russo. May I offer you drinks in the meantime?"
"Champagne," Russo said without breaking eye contact with me. "Your best vintage." When we were alone again, his intense gaze burned into me. "I hope you're not too shaken, Darcy. Trust me, tonight will be unforgettable."
Another shiver coursed through me. What exactly did he have planned? And why did I suddenly feel like I was stepping into quicksand?
Clearing my throat, I managed, "Thank you for... performing in front of my ex again. I appreciate it. But I could've handled them - I'm not some pushover."
"I believe that," Russo said in that velvet voice that did things to my pulse. "But why assume I was performing?"
His words hit like a physical force. I knew engaging with him was dangerous - the more we talked, the harder resisting his charm became. Deflecting, I said, "First you played my son's father, now my boyfriend. I'm grateful, but actually, I'm supposed to meet someone tonight. Since you've booked the place, I should wait outside."
A smirk played on his lips as he showed me his phone - the dating app profile I'd been messaging with. "You mean Jeremy R? That would be me, Darcy. I'm your date tonight."
My jaw dropped. I'd specifically told my son no more Russo involvement - and yet here he'd secretly set me up with the man! I didn't know whether to laugh or scream.
"You're Jeremy R?" I asked weakly, fingers tangling in my hair.
"Russo's my surname," he confirmed, watching my reaction with evident amusement.
As the shock settled, Russo added, "Your profile photo doesn't do you justice. You're far more stunning in person." Heat flooded my cheeks as I looked away, still processing this twist.
With a chuckle, he took my hand. "Shall we?" His eyes sparkled with promise as he led me to our table. The champagne arrived, golden bubbles dancing in crystal flutes.
"To an unforgettable evening," he toasted.
"Unforgettable," I echoed, clinking glasses. The crisp champagne did little to steady my nerves as we began talking. Despite my wariness, conversation flowed effortlessly - his questions thoughtful, his laughter genuine. Before long, we were bantering like old friends.
Yet beneath the easy rapport, I sensed something darker - a dangerous intensity simmering just below his polished surface.
After dinner, his brand-new Lamborghini purred to my doorstep where he briefly met Ethan before leaving.
The next morning as I left for my clinic, I collided with Harris on my doorstep. His bloodshot eyes burned with rage. "You lied to me!" he snarled. "Ethan is my son, isn't he?"