Chapter 3 - The Third Floor
By noon the next day, Hunter’s entire world had been confined to three rooms at the end of the eastern wing.
The suite Lorenzo had assigned her was larger than her entire apartment building in Queens. The floors were covered in thick white wool carpets that muffled every footstep, and the bed was a massive four-poster masterpiece draped in silver silk. But the most important feature was the heavy connecting door that led directly into Leo’s nursery.
"The boss said you like tea," a voice said from the doorway.
Hunter turned from the window to see Mateo, Lorenzo’s right-hand man and head of security. He was a man in his late thirties with a sharp, angular face and a scar that ran from his left ear to his collarbone. He was carrying a silver tray with a porcelain teapot and a plate of fresh fruit.
"Thank you," Hunter said, remaining cautious.
Mateo set the tray on the table, his eyes assessing her with a cold, professional curiosity. "I’ve seen a lot of things in this house, Hunter. I’ve seen men buy their way out of murder charges, and I’ve seen millions of dollars change hands in ten minutes. But I’ve never seen a girl from Queens bring a dying Rossi back from the edge with nothing but her own skin."
"I didn't do it for the Rossi name," Hunter said, walking over to the tray. "I did it for the baby."
"That’s why you’re still breathing," Mateo said, a small, dark smile appearing on his lips. "If Lorenzo thought for one second you were trying to leverage his son for a payday, you’d be at the bottom of the sound right now. But he watched the monitors last night. He saw how you held him."
Hunter froze, her hand hovering over the teapot. "There are cameras in the nursery?"
"There are cameras everywhere, Hunter," Mateo said, his tone turning serious. "This isn't a normal house. The men who blew up Sophia’s car... they’re still out there. They know Lorenzo is broken. They know the baby is his weak spot. You’re not just a wet nurse here; you’re a target."
Before Hunter could digest his words, a soft, high-pitched mewl came through the connecting door.
Instantly, the tension left her body. She forgot about Mateo, forgot about the cameras, and forgot about the dangerous world she had been dropped into. She hurried into the nursery, where Leo was stirring in his crib, his tiny fists flailing against the pink blanket.
She lifted him gently, his skin already looking less translucent than it had twelve hours ago. As she sat in the rocking chair, she pulled her new silk robe open, letting him latch.
Lorenzo walked into the room a moment later. He had changed into a clean black suit, his dark hair combed back, looking every bit the ruthless executive who ran the city. He stopped near the door, his eyes tracking the rhythmic movement of his son’s jaw.
"The doctor came by while you were sleeping," Lorenzo said, his voice surprisingly quiet. "He looked at the charts from the heart monitor. He called it a medical anomaly."
"It’s not an anomaly," Hunter said, without looking up. "It’s nature."
Lorenzo walked over, standing close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his large frame. He reached down, his heavy, scarred finger gently brushing against Leo’s tiny hand. The baby’s fingers instantly curled around his father’s thumb, holding on with a surprising, newfound strength.
May you like
Lorenzo looked down at his son’s grip, then up at Hunter’s face. For a fraction of a second, the hard, lethal mask of the mafia don slipped, revealing a man who was simply terrified of being left alone in the dark.
"Keep him feeding, Hunter," Lorenzo whispered, his voice cracking slightly. "Ask for anything you want. Anything. Just don't let him stop."
