Chapter 1 - The Monster’s Laugh
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Alessandro bowed his head.
His shoulders began to shake.
Sophia’s heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. She stepped protectively in front of Emma, bracing for the explosive violence that everyone in New York knew Alessandro Moretti was capable of. She waited for him to summon his guards, to draw the weapon hidden in his jacket, to banish them to the streets.
But the sound that erupted from the mafia boss was not a roar of fury.
It was a laugh.
Deep, rich, and booming, the laughter echoed off the marble walls and crystal chandeliers. It was a sound so foreign to the somber estate that Vincent Romano actually dropped his hand from his silver crucifix, his jaw slack with shock.
Alessandro threw his head back, wiping a tear of pure mirth from his eye, careful not to smudge the blue butterfly on his forehead.
“Pretty,” Alessandro gasped, looking at the tiny girl in the yellow raincoat. “You made me pretty.”
“You were sad,” Emma stated proudly, crossing her small arms. “Sunflowers fix sad.”
Alessandro knelt on the expensive Persian rug, bringing himself eye-level with the toddler. The fearsome Don of the Moretti family, a man who controlled politicians and ports, looked at the three-year-old with a sudden, profound softness.
“You are absolutely right, little one,” he said softly. “Sunflowers fix sad.”
He looked up at Sophia, who was still frozen in sheer terror.
“Breathe, Miss Delgado,” Alessandro commanded gently, rising to his feet. “You are not fired. And your daughter is a highly talented artist.”
“I am so sorry, Mr. Moretti,” Sophia whispered, her hands trembling as she grabbed a clean napkin to wipe the spilled tea.
“Leave it,” he ordered, his tone shifting back to the authoritative boss, though his eyes remained warm. “Vincent will have the staff clean the floor.”
Vincent stepped forward, his face a mask of strict disapproval. “Sir, I explicitly told the housekeeper that the child was not to roam the estate. This is a severe breach of protocol.”
Alessandro’s gray eyes instantly turned to ice as he looked at his lifelong estate manager.
“The child did no harm, Vincent,” Alessandro said, his voice dropping into a lethal, quiet register. “In fact, this is the first time I have smiled in five years. Miss Delgado and her daughter will be moved from the lower staff quarters to the East Wing guest suites. Immediately.”
Vincent’s eyes widened. “Sir, the East Wing is reserved for family.”
“Did I stutter, Vincent?”
“No, Boss.”
Alessandro turned back to the mirror, examining the orange freckles on his jaw.
May you like
“Sophia,” he called out, without looking back. “From now on, you report directly to me. And Emma has free rein of this house.”
Sophia scooped Emma into her arms, completely stunned. She had walked into the living room expecting to lose her livelihood. Instead, she had just been placed under the direct, terrifying protection of the most powerful man in the city.
