Curvy Waitress Saw Mafia Boss getting Drugged — What Followed Next Is Incredible

"I don't want your money," Leah said, her voice shaking despite her attempt to sound strong. "I just want you to leave before those men show up and hurt him."

Dante didn't move toward the door. Instead, he pulled Leah's burner phone from the counter and dialed another number.

"Dr. Aris," Dante spoke smoothly. "I have a patient for you. Eight years old. Severe respiratory complications. I want a transport team at my location in ten minutes. Full private ward at St. Jude's, under my name. Erase his current medical debt."

Leah stared at him, her mouth open in shock. "You can't just—"

"I just did," Dante cut her off, his dark eyes softening as he looked at her. "You saved my life for nothing but thirteen dollars in tips and a broken shoe. Let me save his."

Leah covered her mouth, the exhaustion and fear of the night finally breaking her. A tear slipped down her cheek. Dante closed the distance between them, his large, calloused hand gently wiping the tear away. His touch was surprisingly tender for a man capable of such violence.

"Pack a bag," Dante ordered softly. "For both of you. We aren't staying here."

"Where are we going?"

"To a place where Sable can never touch you," Dante replied.

Ten minutes later, a sleek black medical transport van idled in the alley behind Leah’s building. Two men in unmarked paramedic uniforms quickly and silently moved a sleeping Matteo onto a stretcher.

Leah watched as her nephew was loaded into the van, clutching a small duffel bag to her chest.

"He'll be safe," Dante assured her, standing by her side in the shadows of the alley. "My men will guard his door 24/7."

Just as Dante reached for the van's door, a sleek black SUV turned the corner at the end of the block, its headlights cutting through the rain. It stopped directly in front of Leah's apartment building.

Four men in dark suits stepped out, pulling assault rifles from beneath their coats.