Chapter 1
“PLEASE, DON'T HURT MY BABY!” I begged the city's most feared mafia boss after discovering my missing seven-month-old daughter asleep on his massive chest. I'd secretly brought her to work because I couldn't afford a babysitter, and now I was certain he'd fire me or worse. But instead of threatening me, the ruthless billionaire looked at my little girl, tightened his protective embrace, and asked one question that made my blood run cold.
“Who told you this baby was allowed to be left alone?”
Just six hours earlier, I was a struggling widow trying desperately to survive another day.
My husband had died unexpectedly, leaving me with unpaid bills, an eviction warning, and our beautiful daughter, Ellie.
She was only seven months old.
Her soft golden-brown curls, round rosy cheeks, and enormous innocent eyes were the only bright things left in my world.
That morning, my babysitter canceled thirty minutes before my restaurant shift.
I begged her to reconsider.
I called neighbors.
I even checked my bank account, hoping for a miracle.
Nothing.
Then I remembered my manager's warning.
“Miss one more shift, and you're fired.”
So I did something desperate.
I brought Ellie to work.
Behind the restaurant's pantry was a small storage room nobody used.
I spread a clean tablecloth on the floor, wrapped Ellie in her favorite pink blanket, and placed her bottle, diapers, and yellow rattle beside her.
“Mommy will be right back, sweetheart,” I whispered, kissing her forehead.
She smiled and wrapped her tiny fingers around mine.
I nearly cried.
For the first hour, I checked on her every few minutes.
Then the dinner rush began.
Customers flooded the restaurant.
My manager screamed orders.
Plates crashed.
And suddenly, forty minutes had passed.
I rushed toward the storage room.
The moment I opened the door, my heart stopped.
Ellie's blanket was empty.
Her bottle sat untouched.
Her yellow rattle lay abandoned on the floor.
My baby was gone.
“Ellie?”
I searched beneath shelves, behind boxes, and through the kitchen.
Nothing.
Then I noticed the staircase leading downstairs.
Every employee knew what waited below.
The private office of Dominic Moretti.
A towering, broad-shouldered mafia billionaire with powerful tattooed arms, piercing dark eyes, and a reputation that terrified even hardened criminals.
His only rule was simple.
Never enter his office without permission.
But I didn't care anymore.
I ran downstairs.
His heavy wooden door stood slightly open.
Then I heard it.
A baby's giggle.
My daughter's giggle.
I pushed the door open.
And froze.
Dominic Moretti was stretched across a black leather couch, his expensive jacket discarded nearby.
One enormous muscular arm rested protectively around Ellie.
My little girl was sleeping peacefully against his chest, her tiny fingers clutching his white shirt.
The terrifying man everyone feared looked strangely gentle.
“Please…” I whispered. “Don't hurt my baby.”
His dark eyes opened.
I started crying.
“I'm sorry. I had nowhere to leave her. Fire me if you want. Just give me my daughter back.”
Dominic stared at me.
Then he glanced at Ellie.
Instead of handing her over, he carefully adjusted her blanket.
“So,” he said quietly, “you're her mother.”
I nodded, trembling.
His expression hardened.
“Then someone needs to explain why I found your daughter crying alone in a closet.”
I opened my mouth.
May you like
But before I could answer, he reached toward the telephone on his desk.
“Get the restaurant manager down here. Now.”
