THE MAFIA BOSS’S DEAF SON HAD NEVER HEARD A SOUND—UNTIL A POOR MAID DID SOMETHING NO DOCTOR COULD

By the time Flight AZ 611 began its descent toward Rome, Leo was asleep against Clare's shoulder.

Dante had barely moved for the last forty minutes.

He watched the stranger holding his son with an expression Marco had never seen before.

It wasn't suspicion.

It was something much more complicated.

"Mr. Salvatore," Clare whispered, careful not to wake the baby. "I think he's ready to go back to you."

Dante extended his arms.

Leo stirred, opened his eyes, and immediately began fussing.

Clare instinctively adjusted his blanket.

"Easy, sweetheart. Nobody's taking you anywhere."

The baby settled again.

Dante's jaw tightened.

"Why does he do that?"

"Babies recognize familiar voices, smells, and patterns," Clare explained. "He may simply feel comfortable right now. That doesn't mean he doesn't recognize you."

Dante looked down at his son.

"He's never liked being held by anyone except his mother."

Clare paused.

"Then perhaps he misses the person who used to hold him most."

For a moment, Dante looked as though he might say something painful.

Instead, he turned toward Marco.

"Find out everything about her."

Clare heard him.

"Excuse me?"

Dante didn't look embarrassed.

"I need to know who is around my son."

"I'm not asking you for anything."

"That's precisely why I want to know."

Clare handed Leo back.

This time, Dante didn't immediately lose his composure when the baby stirred. He began humming an old Sicilian lullaby.

It was the same melody Alessia had sung.

Leo's eyes slowly closed.

Dante froze.

He hadn't sung that song since the funeral.

Marco noticed the change in his employer's expression.

"Sir?"

"Nothing."

But it wasn't nothing.

For six months, Dante had been unable to get through that melody without remembering the explosion, the blood, and Alessia's final unanswered phone call.

Now, for the first time, the song had brought his son peace.

When the plane landed, Dante arranged for a private car to collect Clare and Maya.

She refused.

"I appreciate what happened tonight, but I can manage."

"You have a three-year-old and two suitcases. You don't have a reliable place in Rome yet."

"I have a cousin."

"What's his address?"

Clare hesitated.

Dante noticed.

"You're not sure he's still there."

"He promised he would be."

"Promises are cheap."

"So are threats."

Marco looked at her sharply.

Dante, unexpectedly, smiled.

"You're braver than you look."

"No. I'm just tired of being frightened."

That answer stayed with him.

At the airport, Clare reunited with Maya, who woke up confused and immediately searched for her mother.

"Mommy?"

"I'm right here, sweetheart."

Maya spotted Leo in Dante's arms.

"Baby!"

She reached toward him.

Dante lowered the infant slightly.

Maya touched his tiny hand.

"He's sad."

"He's okay now," Clare assured her.

Maya studied Dante.

"Are you his daddy?"

"Yes."

"Then why didn't you make him happy?"

The question struck harder than anything Dante had heard in years.

Clare quickly apologized.

But Dante shook his head.

"She's right to ask."

Before Clare could leave, Marco approached with a phone.

"Sir. We have a problem."

Dante's expression hardened.

"What?"

"Someone accessed the passenger manifest before landing."

"Who?"

Marco showed him a photograph.

It was Richard Jensen.

Clare recognized her husband instantly.

Her face drained of color.

"No..."

Dante took the phone.

The photograph showed Richard standing outside a private terminal in New York, holding a printed copy of the flight information.

Underneath it was a message:

SHE'S CARRYING SOMETHING THAT BELONGS TO ME. BRING HER BACK.

Clare grabbed Maya's hand.

"Please. I need to go."

Dante looked at the message again.

"Marco, secure the exits."

Clare stepped backward.

"Don't you understand? This is why I left. I don't want another man deciding where I go."

Dante turned toward her.

"I'm not asking you to return to your husband."

"Then what are you doing?"

"I'm making sure he doesn't take you."

She stared at him.

"You're not my husband, Mr. Salvatore."

"No," he replied quietly. "But somebody just threatened a woman who saved my son."

He handed Maya's rabbit back to her after it slipped from her arm.

Then he gave Clare a choice.

A car could take her to her cousin's address, with discreet protection nearby, or she could accept temporary accommodation at his estate until Richard's intentions were clear.

"No guards inside my room," Clare said immediately.

"Agreed."

"And nobody takes Maya anywhere without me."

"Agreed."

"And I am not your employee."

Dante studied her.

"Agreed."

She finally nodded.

But as the convoy left the airport, Marco received another message.

This time, it contained a photograph of Leo.

The baby had been photographed inside the aircraft.

The picture had been taken from the aisle, moments before Clare began feeding him.