1.The Mafia Boss's Baby Reached For One Waitress Only, And Nobody Could Explain Why

Vincenzo pulled back instantly, the romantic softness vanishing from his face as he snatched the glowing phone off the table.

"Speak," he barked into the receiver.

Gabriel’s panicked voice blasted through the speaker so loudly I could hear every word. "Don Vincenzo! It’s a setup! Don Moretti and the Russian syndicate have merged forces! They’ve taken Pier 4 by storm! They have thirty armed men on the docks, and they’ve hijacked the central weapons shipment!"

Vincenzo’s jaw tightened into steel. "Where is Dominic?"

"Pinned down in warehouse B!" Gabriel shouted over the sound of heavy gunfire echoing through the phone line. "Moretti is demanding you show up in person! He says if you aren't at the docks in twenty minutes, he’s executing every man we have!"

Vincenzo’s eyes flared with a lethal, terrifying light. "Prep the armored strike team. I'm on my way."

He hung up the phone, standing up in a single fluid motion.

"Vincenzo, no!" I cried out, springing up from my armchair and grabbing his suit sleeve. "It’s a trap! They want you there so they can kill you!"

Vincenzo looked down at my hand on his arm. He reached over, taking my hand gently in his, lifting it to his lips and pressing a warm, lingering kiss against my knuckles where his black diamond ring sat.

"My men are dying, Mara," Vincenzo said quietly. "A Don does not hide in his house while his soldiers bleed."

"Then let me call the federal marshals!" I pleaded, tears flooding my eyes. "You have evidence of Moretti’s weapons trafficking—"

"In our world, we don't call the marshals," Vincenzo interrupted softly. "We settle our own debts."

He walked over to the hidden wall safe behind the bookcase, punched in a code, and pulled out two heavy tactical sidearms, holstering them beneath his shoulders.

He turned back to face me, standing tall, imposing, and completely lethal.

"Mrs. Gable is locking down the estate’s security systems," Vincenzo instructed. "The West Wing is reinforced with titanium shutters. Stay inside with Leo. Do not open the doors for anyone except Gabriel or myself."

"Promise me you'll come back," I choked out, stepping close to him, grabbing his lapels, looking up into his storm-grey eyes. "Promise me, Vincenzo!"

Vincenzo looked down at me, his eyes filled with an absolute, unshakeable devotion.

"I promised my son I would bring his mother home," Vincenzo whispered, framing my face in his dark dragon hands and pressing one final, fiercely passionate kiss against my lips. "I won't break my promise to you."

He turned on his heel, pulling his heavy tactical coat around his shoulders, and walked out of the library into the dark hallway.

Ten minutes later, the roar of six heavy armored SUVs echoed through the mountain valley as Vincenzo’s strike team tore through the front gates and sped toward the docks.

The night stretched into an agonizing eternity.

I stayed in the nursery, holding Leo in my arms as we sat in the center of the reinforced room. The heavy titanium shutters had lowered over the windows, sealing us off from the outside world.

Every tick of the clock on the mantel sounded like a bomb detonating in my chest.

1:00 AM. No news.

2:00 AM. No news.

3:30 AM.

Suddenly, the estate’s emergency sirens began to howl.

WWOOO-WWOOO-WWOOO!

The red emergency lights in the hallway flashed violently.

I jumped up, clutching Leo tight against my chest.

The heavy iron door of the nursery clicked open, and Mrs. Gable rushed inside, her face white as a sheet, her hands shaking frantically.

"Miss Mara!" she cried out. "The front gate has been breached! Moretti sent a secondary squad to the estate while Vincenzo was at the docks!"

My heart stopped. "Where is the security team?!"

"Occupied at the perimeter!" Mrs. Gable gasped, grabbing my arm. "We have to get to the panic vault in the basement now!"

Before we could step into the hallway, a heavy gunshot echoed through the floor below us.

BANG!

Footsteps—heavy, fast, and tactical—scrambled up the grand staircase toward the West Wing.

"She’s in the nursery!" a harsh, Russian-accented voice bellowed through the corridor. "Find the girl and the baby! Don Moretti wants them alive!"

Mrs. Gable slammed the nursery door shut, throwing the heavy iron security bolt into place.

BOOM!

A body slammed against the outside of the door.

"Open the door, little waitress!" the voice sneered from the hallway. "Your fake Don is dead on Pier 4! Nobody is coming to save you!"

My breath hitched. Tears poured down my cheeks. Dead? Vincenzo... dead?

No.

No!

I remembered my mother’s voice in the basement apartment: You run until your legs break... or you fight until you have no blood left.

I looked at Leo sleeping peacefully in my arms. I looked at the black diamond dragon ring shining on my finger.

I was no longer just a helpless waitress from Chicago. I was Mara Vance Leonardi. And I was going to protect my family.

I handed Leo to Mrs. Gable. "Take him into the bathroom. Lock the door and don't come out until I tell you."

"Miss Mara, what are you doing?!" Mrs. Gable whimpered.

"Fighting," I whispered.

I rushed over to the fireplace, grabbed the heavy iron poker, and stood three feet from the heavy nursery door, pulling my arm back, waiting for the wood to break.