The Mafia Boss Watched His Dying Daughter Through Cameras Until the New Nurse Sang His Dead Wife’s Secret Lullaby

The tension in the house was a living thing. Lorenzo had been gone for three days. He didn't call, and his security team refused to answer Emma's questions. She felt like a prisoner again, trapped in a beautiful cage, waiting for the executioner's axe to fall.

To occupy her mind, Emma threw herself into the final preparations for the hospital opening, which was scheduled in a week. She was reviewing payroll files when she noticed a strange financial anomaly. A large sum of money—two million dollars—had been funneled from the hospital’s charity fund into an offshore account in the Cayman Islands.

Emma’s breath hitched. Lorenzo wouldn't steal from his own daughter’s memorial hospital. Someone was embezzling, or worse, framing them.

She traced the digital signature used to authorize the transfer. It required a physical security key—one that only three people possessed: Lorenzo, herself, and Marco, the head of security.

"No," Emma whispered. Marco had been with Lorenzo for ten years. He was the one who had protected them, who had brought the poisoned doll inside.

The doll. Marco had said it cleared security. But if Marco was working for Marcone, he could have easily bypassed the scanners himself.

Emma felt a cold sweat break out. She was alone in the house with Sophia, and the man guarding their door was the traitor. She needed to get proof before she acted. She downloaded the financial logs onto a flash drive, her hands shaking.

Suddenly, the study door opened. Emma slammed her laptop shut, but she wasn't fast enough. Marco stood in the doorway, holding a cup of tea.

"You look stressed, Dr. Vance," Marco said, his face a polite, unreadable mask. "I brought you some chamomile."

"Thank you, Marco," Emma said, forcing a smile that felt like glass. "Just stressed about the hospital opening."

Marco walked over, placing the tea on the desk. His eyes lingered on the flash drive in her hand. "Is that the donor list? I can have my men secure it."

"No, it's just some personal files," Emma said, slipping it into her pocket. "Where is Lorenzo? Have you heard from him?"

"The Boss is handling business, ma'am. He should be back tonight," Marco replied. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Drink your tea. You need to rest."

As soon as Marco left, Emma poured the tea into a potted orchid on the windowsill. Within seconds, the plant’s leaves began to curl and wither. It was drugged. Marco wanted her unconscious.

Emma knew she had to move fast. She couldn't call Lorenzo; if Marco was monitoring the house communications, he would know she discovered his secret. She had to get Sophia out of there immediately.

She crept up to Sophia’s room, packing a small backpack with essentials. "Sophia, we’re going on a little adventure. A midnight escape. We have to be very, very quiet, okay?"

Sophia, sensing the urgency, nodded bravely.

They sneaked down the back staircase, avoiding the main hallway where Marco usually stationed himself. Emma had a key to the old utility van parked by the garage—a vehicle the security team rarely monitored. They slipped out the side door, the cold night air biting at their faces.

They reached the van. Emma unlocked it quietly, ushering Sophia into the backseat. But just as Emma climbed into the driver’s seat, the interior light flared on.

A hand reached from behind, wrapping a cloth drenched in chloroform over Emma’s mouth and nose.

Emma fought fiercely, kicking her legs, trying to scream, but the sweet, chemical fumes quickly overpowered her. Through a fading haze, she saw Marco’s face looking down at her, devoid of pity.