Chapter 2 - THE MAID WHO DEFIED THE MAFIA KING
Hunter pushed the nursery door open.
The hinges made a faint clicking sound.
The sleeping nurse did not stir.
Inside the crib, Leo Rossi lay on his back beneath a white cotton blanket embroidered with tiny silver stars. His eyes were half-open, but he seemed too exhausted to focus on anything.
Hunter approached carefully.
"Hello, sweetheart," she whispered.
The baby moved his lips.
His mouth opened.
No sound came out.
Hunter felt something inside her chest fracture.
She had seen that same desperate movement before. Lily had made it once, in the delivery room, when Hunter had begged the doctors to try again.
Hunter reached into the crib.
Leo's tiny hand closed around her finger.
It was barely a grip.
But it was enough.
"Oh, baby."
She glanced toward the nurse.
Still asleep.
The medical monitor displayed numbers Hunter did not understand, but the baby's breathing was shallow, and his lips looked dry.
She knew he needed a doctor.
She also knew the doctors had apparently been unable to help him.
Hunter lifted Leo carefully against her shoulder.
His head rested beneath her chin.
He weighed almost nothing.
For a moment, she stood motionless, remembering the unbearable emptiness of leaving the hospital without Lily.
Then Leo turned his face toward her chest.
He began searching.
Hunter stopped breathing.
"No," she whispered, tears gathering. "Oh, sweetheart."
Her body responded immediately.
Milk soaked through the fabric of her uniform.
Leo made another desperate searching movement.
Hunter looked toward the doorway.
She should have called for help.
She should have woken the nurse.
Instead, driven by a grief she could no longer separate from instinct, she sat in the upholstered rocking chair beside the crib and loosened the front of her uniform.
She positioned Leo against her breast.
For several seconds, nothing happened.
Then the baby latched.
Hunter gasped.
One small swallow.
Another.
Then another.
Her tears fell onto the white blanket.
"That's it," she whispered. "Take your time."
Leo's tiny fingers curled against her skin.
The monitor beside the crib began registering a steadier rhythm.
Hunter lowered her head.
She had spent three weeks believing her body had betrayed her.
Now, in the middle of a forbidden nursery, that same body was feeding a child who had nearly stopped fighting.
She began humming.
It was the lullaby she had sung to Lily during pregnancy.
A simple melody her own mother had taught her.
She barely noticed when the nursery door opened.
"Put my son down."
The voice was cold enough to freeze her blood.
Hunter looked up.
Lorenzo Rossi stood in the doorway.
He wore a black suit without a tie. His dark hair was disheveled, and the exhaustion beneath his eyes made him look older than thirty-six.
A pistol rested in his right hand.
The barrel pointed directly at her.
Hunter's arms tightened protectively around Leo.
"Don't move," Lorenzo said.
She didn't.
His eyes dropped toward the baby.
Then toward her loosened uniform.
Understanding crossed his face.
It was followed by disbelief.
"What are you doing?"
Hunter swallowed.
"Feeding him."
"Who authorized you?"
"Nobody."
Lorenzo stepped forward.
"You're a maid."
"Yes."
"You entered a restricted room."
"Yes."
"You touched my son without permission."
Hunter's voice trembled.
"He was hungry."
Lorenzo raised the gun slightly.
"Do you understand what happens to people who endanger my family?"
Hunter looked down at Leo.
The baby was still nursing.
For the first time since she had entered the mansion, his face looked peaceful.
She lifted her eyes.
"Then shoot me after he's finished."
Lorenzo froze.
The silence became absolute.
Even the nurse, who had awakened at the sound of his voice, remained motionless.
"What did you say?"
Hunter's cheeks were wet.
"I said you can shoot me after he's finished eating."
Lorenzo stared at her.
No one had spoken to him that way in years.
Not his soldiers.
Not his enemies.
Certainly not a twenty-four-year-old maid wearing a cheap uniform.
But she wasn't looking at the gun.
She was looking at his son.
And Leo was swallowing.
Lorenzo noticed the movement.
He stepped closer.
"Leo?"
The baby's tiny jaw moved again.
Lorenzo lowered his pistol.
"He's eating?"
Hunter nodded.
"Yes."
"That's impossible."
"He's doing it."
Lorenzo crouched beside the chair.
For the first time in weeks, he was close enough to hear his son's breathing without the mechanical interference of the monitors.
He watched the baby's cheek move.
Then he covered his mouth.
His shoulders trembled.
Hunter looked away, giving him the small dignity of privacy.
Behind them, the nurse suddenly stood.
"Mr. Rossi, this is completely unacceptable. We don't know this woman's medical history. She could expose the child to—"
"Call Dr. Halloran," Lorenzo interrupted.
"But sir—"
"Now."
The nurse hurried toward the telephone.
Lorenzo looked at Hunter again.
"What's your name?"
"Hunter Higgins."
"Have you had a child?"
Her face changed.
Lorenzo immediately understood he had touched something painful.
"Yes," she whispered.
"Where is your baby?"
Hunter stared at Leo.
"She's gone."
Lorenzo said nothing.
Hunter swallowed hard.
"Her name was Lily."
The baby released her breast and made a soft, sleepy sound.
Hunter carefully adjusted his blanket.
Lorenzo reached out.
Then stopped.
He seemed uncertain whether he was allowed to touch his own son.
Hunter noticed.
"You can hold him," she said gently.
Lorenzo looked at her.
"He cries when I do."
"Maybe he won't this time."
She helped him position his arms.
Leo settled against his father's chest.
The baby's eyes fluttered closed.
Lorenzo stood completely still.
One tear slipped down his cheek.
He did not wipe it away.
For a brief moment, Hunter saw neither the mafia boss nor the man whose name terrified half of New York.
She saw a father who had forgotten how to hope.
Then Dr. Halloran arrived.
Within minutes, the room filled with medical equipment, questions, and hurried examinations.
The doctor listened to Leo's heart, checked his breathing, and ordered immediate blood tests.
Hunter explained what had happened.
Halloran looked troubled.
"Direct breastfeeding is not automatically safe simply because the baby accepts it. We need infectious-disease screening, medication history, and a complete nutritional assessment."
"Do it," Lorenzo ordered.
"And the infant still needs hospital-level monitoring. One successful feeding doesn't reverse two weeks of severe malnutrition."
"Then arrange it."
Halloran nodded.
But something strange happened when he reviewed the monitor.
His face tightened.
He looked toward the nurse.
"Who prepared tonight's bottle?"
She hesitated.
"I did."
"And where is it?"
"In the refrigerator."
Halloran turned away too quickly.
Hunter noticed.
So did Lorenzo.
"Doctor," Lorenzo said quietly, "is there something you're not telling me?"
Halloran forced a smile.
"No. Nothing at all."
But as the doctor left the nursery, Hunter saw him remove his phone.
He sent a message.
May you like
Only four words appeared on the screen.
The maid changed everything.
