1.The first time the Mafia boss’s baby reached for me, I thought he wanted the silver necklace around my throat.

By the end of my first week at the estate, I had fallen into a comfortable rhythm with little Leo.

The little boy was a joy when he felt safe. We spent our mornings playing on the soft rug of the nursery, walking through the private rose gardens under the heavy watch of armed guards, and taking long afternoon naps. For the first time in his life, Leo was gaining weight, laughing, and sleeping through the night.

But living in the Moretti household meant living on a knife’s edge.

I quickly realized that Luca wasn't just a powerful man—he was a targeted man. The estate was a fortress for a reason. Bulletproof glass, encrypted comms, and men carrying automatic weapons hidden beneath bespoke suits were the norm.

One rainy Thursday afternoon, I was sitting in the sunroom, feeding Leo his apple puree, when loud, angry voices drifted down the long marble corridor.

“You’re letting your guard down, Luca!” a sharp, feminine voice hissed.

I peeked around the corner of the arched doorway. Standing in the grand foyer was a breathtaking woman dressed in a red designer suit, her dark hair pulled back into a slick bun. Beside her stood two stern-looking men in grey suits.

Her name was Sophia Vance—no relation to me, though the irony wasn't lost on me. She was the daughter of the Chicago syndicate boss, and according to the household staff's whispers, she had been trying to arrange a political marriage with Luca ever since his wife died.

“My security is fine, Sophia,” Luca replied, his voice calm, cold, and utterly terrifying. He stood at the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the polished banister.

“Is it?” Sophia sneered, stepping closer. “You hired some cheap street girl from South Philly to nurse your heir? You don't know who she is! She could be a plant from the Romanos. She could be poisoning him!”

My hands tightened around Leo’s feeding spoon.

Luca’s posture shifted instantly. The air in the foyer seemed to drop ten degrees. “Watch your tongue, Sophia.”

“I’m looking out for this family!” she demanded, pointing an angry red-nailed finger at him. “A girl like that doesn't belong in this house. Fire her today, or I will have my father’s men look into her background.”

Before Luca could respond, little Leo let out a loud babble from the sunroom and crawled straight out onto the marble floor toward his father.

Sophia snapped her head around, her eyes landing on me as I rushed out to pick him up.

Her gaze burned through me with pure, unadulterated venom. “So this is the little charity case.”

“I’m the caregiver, Miss Vance,” I said, keeping my chin high and my voice perfectly steady despite the adrenaline spiking through my blood.

Sophia took three deliberate steps toward me, her eyes narrowing as she looked me up and down. “You look like you belong in a soup kitchen, not a Moretti residence. Hand the child to the guard.”

Leo immediately hid his face against my shoulder, whimpering softly.

“No,” I said firmly.

Sophia froze, shock flashing across her face. “What did you say to me?”

“I said no,” I repeated, taking a step back. “He doesn't like loud noises, and he doesn't know you. I won't distress him.”

“You insolent little—” Sophia raised her hand as if to slap me.

In the blink of an eye, Luca was there. His hand clamped around Sophia’s wrist mid-air with crushing force.

“If you raise a hand against anyone in my house again, Sophia,” Luca growled, his face inches from hers, “I will send you back to Chicago in a wooden box. Am I making myself clear?”

Sophia gasped, her face going pale as she yanked her wrist free. She cast one last murderous look at me before spinning on her high heels and storming out the front doors, her guards trailing behind her.

Luca turned slowly to face me.

My heart was beating out of my chest. I held Leo tighter, expecting him to scold me for talking back to a syndicate heiress.

Instead, Luca looked down at his son, who was reaching out his small hand toward his father’s coat.