Chapter 5 - The Nursery’s Secret
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My new bedroom was larger than my entire apartment. It was elegantly furnished in shades of cream and gold, featuring a massive four-poster bed and a balcony overlooking the dark, crashing waves of the Atlantic Ocean. But I didn't care about the luxury. I cared about the door connecting my room directly to the nursery.
I unpacked my meager belongings, my hands shaking as I placed my mother's photograph on the nightstand. Why had Dante sought me out? Why did the baby reach for me? The questions swirled in my mind like a violent storm.
Unable to sleep, I quietly opened the adjoining door and stepped into the nursery.
The room was bathed in the soft, blue glow of a nightlight. Leo was asleep in a massive, custom-built crib, his chest rising and falling in a peaceful, steady rhythm. I walked over, drawn to him by an invisible, undeniable magnetic pull. I gently reached out, letting my finger brush against his tiny, soft cheek.
He stirred, letting out a soft sigh, and his small hand instinctively reached out, wrapping his fingers tightly around my thumb even in his sleep.
"He hasn't slept through the night since she died," a voice whispered from the shadows.
I gasped, spinning around. Dante was sitting in a velvet armchair in the corner of the room, completely hidden by the darkness. He held a glass of amber liquid, his eyes fixed on me and his son.
"His mother?" I asked softly, afraid to shatter the fragile silence.
"Isabella," Dante said, the name tasting like ash in his mouth. "She died shortly after he was born. A hit. The Falcone family put a bounty on my heir. They missed Leo, but they didn't miss her."
The raw, agonizing pain in his voice caught me off guard. The ruthless mafia boss was bleeding out in front of me, entirely consumed by grief.
"I'm so sorry," I whispered.
May you like
Dante stood up, walking slowly toward the crib. He stopped right beside me, so close I could feel the heat radiating off his body. He looked down at our joined hands—Leo holding my thumb.
"He recognizes you," Dante said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, low register. "He recognizes your scent. Your heartbeat. I need to know why, Alina. Because my men ran your background check, and you don't exist."
