1.The Mafia Baby Was Starving Until the Maid Did the One Thing His Father Had Been Too Broken to Understand

By morning, the third floor of the Rossi estate had been completely transformed.

The team of private nurses and arrogant specialists were dismissed and escorted off the property by Lorenzo’s guards. The sterile medical monitors were rolled out of the nursery, replaced by plush velvet armchairs, soft cashmere blankets, and custom mahogany furniture.

Hunter was moved into the master guest suite directly adjacent to the nursery. The room was larger than her entire apartment in Queens, featuring a fireplace, a private balcony overlooking the ocean, and a massive king-sized bed lined with Egyptian cotton sheets.

Yet, despite the luxury, Hunter felt like a prisoner in a gold-plated fortress.

Every corner of the mansion was patrolled by heavy-set men in dark tailored suits, carrying concealed firearms under their jackets.

At 8:00 AM, a gentle knock sounded at her door.

Hunter, wearing a comfortable silk robe provided by the house staff, opened the door holding Leo, who had just finished his second successful feeding.

Standing in the hallway was Marco, Lorenzo’s chief lieutenant and head of security. Marco was a broad-shouldered man in his late forties with a scarred face and cold grey eyes, but when he looked at the baby in Hunter’s arms, his expression softened instantly.

"Miss Higgins," Marco said politely, dipping his head. "The Boss asked me to check on you and the young master."

"He's doing wonderful, Marco," Hunter smiled faintly. "He gained two ounces overnight."

Marco let out a long, heavy sigh of relief, crossing himself quickly. "Thank God. The whole house was waiting for news. If anything happened to that boy... Mr. Rossi would have burned New York to the ground."

"Where is Mr. Rossi?" Hunter asked, looking down the quiet hallway.

"In his study on the first floor," Marco replied, his tone darkening slightly. "He's been up all night dealing with business."

"Business?"

"The Moretti syndicate," Marco said, before catching himself and closing his mouth. "It's nothing for you to worry about, Miss Higgins. Your only job is to stay safe on this floor."

After Marco left, Hunter walked down the grand marble staircase carrying Leo.

She didn't want to stay locked in her room all day. The mansion was suffocatingly quiet, filled with the ghost of Sophia Rossi—oil paintings of the beautiful dark-haired woman hung in every corridor, smiling down at a family she would never see grow up.

As Hunter passed the double oak doors of Lorenzo’s study, she heard heated voices raised inside.

"It's a trap, Lorenzo!" Marco’s voice boomed through the thick wood. "Gino Moretti called a meeting at the harbor docks for tonight. He claims he wants to declare a truce, but he's mobilizing fifty shooters from Philadelphia!"

"I know it's a trap, Marco," Lorenzo’s voice echoed back, low and terrifyingly calm. "Gino thinks I'm weak because my son was dying. He thinks the Rossi family is ready to crumble."

"Then don't go!" Marco urged. "Send me with a strike team!"

"No," Lorenzo stated firmly. "If I don't show up, they will know Leo is alive. They will realize we have turned the corner, and they will target this estate directly. I will go to the docks, I will kill Gino Moretti, and I will end this war once and for all."

Outside the door, Hunter’s heart pounded against her ribs.

She looked at the innocent baby cradled in her arms. Leo was just beginning to heal, just beginning to find his footing in this cold world.

If Lorenzo died tonight on the docks, Leo would be left completely alone—an orphan in a sea of ruthless mafia sharks who would tear his inheritance apart.

Hunter took a deep breath, raised her hand, and knocked firmly on the study door.

The voices inside instantly ceased.

The door swung open, and Lorenzo stood there, his eyes sharp and vigilant. When he saw Hunter holding his son, his hard expression softened just a fraction.

"Is something wrong with Leo?" Lorenzo asked immediately.

"Leo is fine, Mr. Rossi," Hunter said, stepping past him into the massive, book-lined study. She looked directly into Lorenzo’s eyes. "I couldn't help but hear you talking."

Lorenzo’s eyes narrowed slightly. "You shouldn't listen at doors, Miss Higgins."

"You shouldn't go to the docks tonight," Hunter fired back, stepping closer to his desk. "If you walk into a trap and get killed, who protects Leo? Who stops these men from coming to this house?"

Lorenzo stared at her, stunned by her boldness. No one in his organization—not even his top captains—dared to question his tactical decisions.

"I have fifty armed guards at this estate, Hunter," Lorenzo said coldly. "My son will be protected regardless of my fate."

"Guards fight for money, Mr. Rossi," Hunter said, her voice dropping into a fierce, protective whisper. "Fathers fight for their children. Leo doesn't need fifty armed men. He needs his father to come home tonight."

Lorenzo went completely still.

He looked at Hunter, then at his son, who was looking up at him with wide, curious dark eyes—eyes that were identical to his own.

For two months, Lorenzo had been seeking death. He had thrown himself into bloody vengeance because he couldn't bear the pain of losing Sophia. He had fought like a man with nothing left to lose.

But looking at Hunter holding his thriving child, Lorenzo realized with a jolt of shock that he did have something to lose.