Chapter 2 - The Silent Intruder
The meetings dragged on until late afternoon. The waterfront representatives were greedy, the accountants were nervous, and Judge Harrison was practically shaking when Alessandro personally delivered the news that his son's debt had been resolved. By 3:00 PM, Alessandro's head was throbbing with a fierce, relentless migraine.
He needed air.
Declining his usual security detail, Alessandro walked out into the estate’s private courtyard, wandering past the high stone walls until he reached the ancient, sprawling oak tree that stood near the northern boundary. The tree was older than the house itself, its massive roots clawing deep into the earth, providing a wide canopy of shade.
Alessandro sat down on the wooden bench beneath the oak, leaning his head back against the rough bark. He was exhausted down to his bones. He closed his eyes, intending only to rest his mind for a moment, but his body, starved of rest, dragged him down into a light, uneasy slumber.
He woke up to a sensation he had never experienced in his thirty-eight years of life.
Something small, warm, and soft was pressing against his chest.
Every instinct in Alessandro's body screamed danger. His hand flew instantly to the custom-made holster beneath his left armpit, his fingers wrapping around the cold grip of his semi-automatic pistol. His grey eyes snapped open, a lethal glare ready to identify his attacker.
But his hand froze.
A little girl, no older than three, was curled up on his chest like a small, sleepy kitten. Her soft brown curls tickled his chin, and her tiny hand, decorated with a faint smudge of dirt, was resting directly over his gun hand. She was breathing softly, her long eyelashes casting delicate shadows on her rosy cheeks.
Alessandro stared at her, completely paralyzed.
He could have snapped her neck with two fingers. He could have thrown her off him before she even had a chance to scream. Yet, looking at her peaceful face, he felt an bizarre, terrifying sensation: he didn't want to wake her up.
"Mia!" a panicked, breathless voice whispered from the bushes.
Alessandro’s head snapped toward the sound. Elena, the new maid, was standing near the hedge, her face completely pale, her chest heaving with terror. Her hands were trembling so violently she could barely hold her apron. She looked as though she was staring at a demon who was about to devour her child.
"Please..." Elena whispered, dropping to her knees on the grass, her eyes filling with tears. "Please, Mr. Moretti. I am so sorry. I turned my back for one second to empty the trash, and she... she ran off. Please don't hurt her. Please."
Alessandro looked down at the little girl, then back at the terrified mother. His voice was a low, dangerous rumble. "Do you have any idea how close your daughter came to dying today, Elena?"
"I know, I know," she sobbed, burying her face in her hands. "I'm sorry. I'll pack our things. We'll leave immediately."
"Quiet," Alessandro commanded. "You'll wake her."
Elena froze, looking up through her tears in disbelief.
Alessandro carefully slid his hand out from beneath Mia's tiny grip. With a gentleness he didn't know he possessed, he slipped his arms under the toddler, lifting her small, weightless body off his chest. Mia let out a soft, discontented sigh, cuddling closer into the crook of his arm as he stood up.
He walked over to Elena and handed the sleeping child to her. "If I ever see her outside of the servants' quarters again, you won't just be fired. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Mr. Moretti. Thank you. Thank you," Elena stammered, clutching her daughter to her chest as if she had just escaped a burning building. She turned and scrambled back toward the mansion.
Alessandro stood beneath the oak tree, looking down at his chest. The warmth of the child’s body still lingered on his dark coat. For the first time in twelve years, his heart was beating with something other than adrenaline and rage.
May you like
But as he turned to walk back to the house, he noticed something lying in the grass where Elena had been kneeling. It was a small, high-tech tracking device, no larger than a coin.
Alessandro’s eyes narrowed. The warmth in his chest vanished instantly, replaced by a deadly, sub-zero chill.
