550 The Mafia Boss's Baby Reached For One Waitress Only, And Nobody Could Explain Why

Downtown Chicago was trapped in a heavy torrential downpour. Rain washed over the high-rise glass buildings, turning the streets into rivers of gray light.

The delivery truck dropped us off three blocks from the Moretti Syndicate headquarters—a forty-story glass skyscraper towering over the Financial District.

I wrapped Leo inside my wool coat, keeping his head sheltered from the rain, while Nina and I hurried down the crowded sidewalks. My clothes were torn, my shoes were covered in mud, and I looked like a fugitive—which, in every sense of the word, I was.

Two heavily armed guards stood outside the grand revolving doors of Moretti Tower. As we approached, they instantly crossed their submachine guns, blocking the entrance.

"State your business," one of the guards barked.

I pulled back the edge of my coat, revealing the sleeping face of baby Leo, then pulled my locket out for them to see.

"My name is Mara Valenti," I said, my voice cutting through the sound of the rain like thunder. "And if you don't take me to Dante Moretti in five seconds, I will ensure he executes both of you before the sun sets."

The guards looked at the baby, then at my face. Recognition flashed in their eyes.

"Miss Valenti!" the second guard gasped, instantly lowering his weapon and pressing his earpiece. "Boss! She's here! She has the baby!"

Within thirty seconds, the private executive elevator descended to the lobby.

The silver doors slid open, and Dante Moretti burst out.

He wasn't wearing his suit jacket. His white shirt was stained with dried blood, his tie was torn open, and his eyes were bloodshot, wild with an unholy mixture of grief, rage, and desperation. He had received word thirty minutes prior that his estate had gone dark and his son was missing.

When his eyes landed on me standing in the center of the lobby—wet, bruised, but holding his living son—Dante stopped dead in his tracks.

"Leo..." he breathed, his voice cracking.

I stepped forward. "He's safe, Dante. He's okay."

Dante didn't care about the guards watching. He didn't care about his reputation. He threw his massive arms around both of us, pulling me and Leo into an embrace so powerful it nearly lifted my feet off the marble floor.

He buried his face into my neck, his body trembling violently. "I thought I lost you," he whispered, his voice thick with uncontainable emotion. "I thought they killed you both."

"Luciana and Marco betrayed you," I whispered into his ear as Leo woke up and made a happy sound, grabbing Dante’s ear with his little hand. "They tried to poison me, Dante. They tried to take Leo."

Dante pulled back slowly. The relief in his eyes instantly vanished, replaced by an absolute, terrifying darkness—the look of a monster awakening from its slumber.

"Luciana," Dante spat, the name tasting like ash in his mouth.

"She leaked your location to the Camorra," I continued rapidly. "She wanted Marco to inherit the family. She's at the mansion right now, thinking we're dead."

Dante looked down at his son, who was reaching out his other hand to touch his father's face. Then he looked at me—at the deep bruises on my arms, at the courage shining in my eyes.

He reached out, his big hand gently cradling the back of my head, drawing my forehead up to meet his.

"You saved my son twice, Mara," Dante murmured, his voice shaking with a profound, terrifying devotion. "You fought my own blood to keep him alive."

"He's my blood too," I said fiercely.

Dante kissed my forehead—a long, tender gesture that made my heart leap in my chest.

"Stay here with my personal guard," Dante ordered, turning to his head of security. "Mobilize every soldier in the city. We are returning to the fortress."

"Dante, wait!" I called out, grabbing his sleeve. "Don't go alone!"