Chapter 1 - The Contract
Twenty-one days ago, I gave birth to the son of the most feared mafia boss in the city.
I was supposed to leave his mansion with five million dollars.
Instead, I was standing in the nursery at three in the morning, holding my crying baby while the most dangerous man in New York struggled to warm a bottle with hands that trembled from pain.
My name is Melissa Hart.
At least, that was the name on the contract.
For the past three years, I had lived as Melissa Hart, ordinary woman, ordinary waitress, ordinary daughter trying desperately to keep her dying mother alive.
Nobody knew who I really was.
And that was exactly how I wanted it.
My mother had taught me one thing above everything else:
Never let anyone know you are a Romano.
Because the Romano family had once ruled half the criminal underworld on the East Coast.
And then they were slaughtered.
My father, Don Gabriel Romano, had been murdered when I was sixteen.
My mother and I had disappeared that same night.
For eight years, we ran.
Changed names.
Changed cities.
Changed our lives.
Until my mother's cancer returned.
That was when I became desperate enough to make a deal with the devil.
Adrian Moretti.
The name alone could empty a room.
Men disappeared after crossing him.
Judges mysteriously changed their decisions.
Politicians lowered their voices whenever his name appeared in conversation.
And yet I had signed a contract with him.
Five million dollars to carry his child.
The arrangement was simple.
No romance.
No relationship.
No expectations.
I would give birth.
He would pay.
I would save my mother.
Then we would never see each other again.
At least, that was the plan.
But plans had a way of dying inside the Moretti mansion.
The first time I met Adrian, he was sitting in a wheelchair in front of a wall of windows overlooking Manhattan.
He looked nothing like the monster described in newspapers.
He was thirty-four.
Broad shoulders.
Black hair.
Sharp jaw.
A scar crossed the left side of his neck.
His eyes were colder than winter.
He looked at me for several seconds.
Then he looked down at the contract.
“You understand what you're agreeing to?”
“Yes.”
“You'll live here during the pregnancy.”
“Yes.”
“You'll have access to the best doctors in the country.”
“I don't need—”
“You will.”
His voice ended the argument.
Then he pushed the contract toward me.
“Five million upon delivery.”
My fingers tightened around the pen.
“My mother needs treatment now.”
“I know.”
“She can't wait nine months.”
“I've already arranged it.”
I looked up.
“What?”
“Your mother's treatment begins tomorrow.”
I stared at him.
“You said the payment comes after the baby is born.”
“It does.”
“Then why—”
“Because I don't need you worrying about whether your mother will survive long enough to see her grandchild.”
That was the first crack.
The first moment I realized Adrian Moretti wasn't quite the monster everyone claimed.
But I still signed.
Nine months later, my son was born.
And everything changed.
The doctors told me I needed to remain in the mansion for at least four weeks.
Adrian agreed.
I didn't.
“I have the money,” I said.
“You're staying.”
“I can recover somewhere else.”
“No.”
“You can't force me.”
He looked at me from his wheelchair.
“I can.”
I hated him for saying it.
But I hated myself more because I was too weak to fight.
That night, our son began crying.
I woke to find Adrian standing beside the crib.
He was holding the baby awkwardly.
One hand supported the tiny head.
The other struggled with the bottle.
“You're doing it wrong,” I whispered.
He looked at me.
“You're awake.”
“You're holding him too high.”
“I've held guns more complicated than this.”
“That explains everything.”
His eyebrow rose.
I took the bottle from him.
He watched silently.
Then the baby stopped crying.
Adrian stared at his son.
Something softened in his expression.
“He has your eyes.”
“No.”
“Then mine?”
I looked at the baby.
“Maybe.”
Adrian smiled.
It was the first time I had ever seen him do it.
And somehow, that frightened me more than his reputation ever had.
Because I was beginning to see the man beneath the legend.
And I was beginning to care.
That was dangerous.
Because I had entered this house intending to leave.
I didn't know yet that the Moretti mansion was about to become the place where I discovered the truth about my father.
May you like
The truth about Adrian.
And the real reason I had been chosen to carry his child.
