Chapter 2 - THE UNHOLY ALLIANCE
The silence that followed was broken only by the sound of the sleeping nurse’s loud snort as she shifted in the armchair.
Lorenzo’s eyes darted toward the nurse, then to the half-empty wine glass on the table. In a fraction of a second, the shock on his face transformed into a cold, terrifying wrath. He stepped past Hunter, his leather shoes making no sound on the carpet, and grabbed the nurse by her hair, ripping her backward out of the chair.
The woman shrieked, her hands flying to her scalp as she hit the floor. "Mr. Rossi! I—I was just—"
"Get out," Lorenzo whispered, his voice dangerously low. "If I see your face on my property when the sun comes up, I will have my men feed you to the crabs in the bay. Leave your bag. Run."
The woman didn't ask questions. She scrambled to her feet, her face white with terror, and fled the room in her stocking feet, the door clicking shut behind her.
Lorenzo turned back to Hunter. He tucked the pistol into the waistband of his trousers, though his posture remained tense, his broad shoulders squared like an animal guarding its territory. He looked down at Hunter’s uniform, the torn bandages, and the raw truth of what she was doing.
"You're the new girl," he said, his mind assembling the pieces of his estate's security logs. "The one from the agency. Hunter."
"Yes."
"Why do you have milk?" he asked bluntly, his eyes searching her face for any sign of deception. "The agency said you didn't have children."
Hunter looked down at Leo, who had finally let go of her breast, his mouth covered in a thin rim of white milk, his eyes closed in the deep, heavy sleep of a satisfied infant. Carefully, she refastened her clothes, pulling the dark fabric over her chest before looking back up at the Don.
"My daughter was stillborn three weeks ago," she said, her voice flat, stripped of all emotion so she wouldn't break down. "My boyfriend pushed me down the stairs. My baby died, but my body didn't get the message. I have milk because my daughter didn't live long enough to take it."
Lorenzo stared at her. For a long moment, the only sound in the vast room was the steady, regular beep of the monitor. He recognized the look in her eyes—it was the same look he saw in his own mirror every morning. The hollow, burning vacuum left behind when the world rips away something you love before it even has a chance to begin.
"What was his name?" Lorenzo asked.
"Her name was Lily," Hunter said.
Lorenzo nodded once, slowly. He walked over to the crib, his massive hand reaching out to touch the polished wood. He looked at Leo, whose skin was warm to the touch for the first time in weeks.
"Twenty doctors," Lorenzo muttered, more to himself than to her. "Three clinics in Switzerland. A hundred thousand dollars a week for specialists who told me his digestive tract was failing. And all he wanted was his mother."
"He wanted a mother," Hunter corrected gently. "Formula doesn't taste like skin. Donor milk from a freezer doesn't have a heartbeat behind it. He was lonely, Mr. Rossi. You can buy everything in the world, but you can't buy the smell of a mother."
The PropositionLorenzo walked to the window, looking out over the black expanse of the Atlantic. The rain was beginning to start again, tapping against the thick, reinforced glass.
"You aren't going back to Queens," he said, it wasn't a question.
"I have a lease," Hunter replied. "And people I owe money to."
"They're paid," Lorenzo said, turning around. "Whoever they are, whatever the amount is, it's gone. If your boyfriend comes near your apartment again, he won't find you. If he looks too hard, my men will ensure he stops looking permanently."
He walked over to her, stopping three feet away. He was a massive man, smelling of tobacco, cedarwood, and the faint metallic tang of old gun oil, but he didn't move toward her with aggression.
Lorenzo's TermsHunter's RightsYou live on the third floor.You have private quarters next to the nursery.You do not leave the estate without escort.Your debts are entirely cleared by tomorrow morning.You feed my son until he is strong.You never touch a cleaning rag in this house again.
"You will be his wet nurse," Lorenzo said, his voice dropping into the tone he used when finalizing contracts that governed millions of dollars. "You will give him what my wife cannot. In return, you are untouchable. Anyone who looks at you wrong dies. Anyone who hurts you dies. Do we have a deal?"
Hunter looked down at Leo, who was snoring softly against her arm. She thought about her dark, damp apartment in Queens. She thought about Tommy Vance, the heavy thud of his boots on the stairs, and the sound of her own bones breaking. Then she looked at this broken, dangerous king who was offering her a fortress in exchange for the one thing she had left to give.
"I don't want your money, Mr. Rossi," Hunter said, rising slowly from the floor with the baby nestled against her shoulder. "I just want to make sure nobody ever pushes me down a flight of stairs again."
May you like
Lorenzo looked at her bruised wrists, then at the baby sleeping peacefully against her heart.
"In this house," Lorenzo said, "you are safer than the gold in the Federal Reserve. Let's get you moved into your room."
