Chapter 4 - Whispers in the Dark
I ended up staying the entire night.
I fell asleep on the soft cream rug beside Leo’s crib, my hand still resting against the wooden slats. When I opened my eyes at sunrise, a warm cashmere blanket had been gently draped over my shoulders, and the scent of fresh coffee drifted up the grand staircase.
I sat up, rubbing my eyes. Leo was standing up in his crib, holding onto the top rail, staring down at me with two big, bright blue eyes and a wide, gummy grin.
“Good morning, tiny,” I murmured, smiling back.
He babbled happily, reaching his small arms over the rail. I picked him up, cradling him against my hip as I walked out of the nursery and down the hall toward the kitchen.
The kitchen was a vast expanse of white marble and stainless steel. Luca was standing near the island counter in a plain dark t-shirt and grey sweatpants, holding a mug of coffee while reviewing documents on a tablet.
He looked up as we entered. His eyes swept over me—my rumpled server's apron tossed over a chair, my hair tied in a loose knot—and something soft and intense flashed across his features.
“Good morning,” Luca said, setting his tablet down.
“Good morning. He woke up happy,” I said, setting Leo down on the broad marble island where he immediately grabbed a rubber teething ring.
“That’s a miracle,” Luca remarked, handing me a mug of hot coffee. “There’s breakfast in the warmer if you’re hungry.”
“Thank you, but I should probably head home. My shift starts again tonight, and my apartment needs—”
The kitchen door swung open abruptly.
Three men in dark, tailored suits walked in unannounced. Leading them was a man in his late fifties with slicked-back gray hair, sharp eyes, and a cruel, narrow jawline. This was Dominic Moretti—Luca’s uncle and the senior patriarch of the family business.
Dominic stopped in his tracks, his eyes darting from me to Leo, then to Luca’s sweatpants.
“Who is this?” Dominic demanded, his voice sharp and grating. “Luca, we have a meeting with the Atlantic City contacts in twenty minutes, and you’re standing in your kitchen entertaining a waitstaff girl?”
Luca’s posture shifted instantly. The tired father vanished, replaced by the cold, lethal mob boss I had heard about in rumors. He stepped between Dominic and me, his eyes turning to black glass.
“Watch your tongue, Dominic,” Luca warned, his voice dangerously low. “You’re in my house.”
“I’m in my brother’s house,” Dominic countered, taking a step forward. “A house that is being neglected because you’re obsessing over a child who shouldn't even be running around during business hours. The family is getting restless, Luca. You’re distracted.”
Leo picked up on the harsh tone, letting out a small, anxious whimper and reaching for me. I picked him up instantly, pulling him close to my chest and stepping back into the shadow of the pantry.
Luca saw the fear in Leo’s eyes, and something inside him snapped.
He grabbed Dominic by the lapels of his expensive coat, slamming the older man back against the heavy mahogany door of the pantry with a deafening THUD.
“If you ever raise your voice in front of my son again,” Luca hissed, his face inches from his uncle’s, “I will throw you out of this family and into the river. Do you understand me?”
The two guards behind Dominic reached into their jackets, but Marco—who had entered quietly behind them—drew his pistol instantly, clicking the safety off.
Dominic swallowed hard, his face turning pale under Luca’s iron grip. “Understood, Luca.”
“Get out,” Luca growled, releasing him.
Dominic adjusted his tie, his sharp eyes flicking over to me with cold, venomous hatred before turning and marching out of the house with his men trailing behind.
Silence fell over the kitchen. Luca took a deep breath, smoothing down his shirt, then turned around to face me.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Luca said quietly.
May you like
I looked at him, my heart hammering against my ribs. “He’s dangerous, Luca.”
“He’s family,” Luca replied darkly. “Which makes him twice as dangerous.”
