The Day When the True Mafia Queen Was out of Prison

I gave up ten years of my life and went to prison to protect my sister, Jasmine. In return, she took my baby, claiming my one-night stand with the ruthless mafia king, Dominic Valentino, as her own. Now, she sits on a stolen throne, playing the perfect mafia wife. And I become my son's night nanny. Dominic is lethal, cold, and suspicious of everyone. He married Jasmine out of duty, yet he refuses to touch her. But the moment I step into his house, his eyes lock onto me. He doesn't know I'm the woman who saved his life in a bloody alley a year ago. He doesn't know the baby crying in the nursery is mine. All he knows is that the air burns whenever we are in the same room. My sister thinks I'm just a broken ex-con she can easily crush. She forgot one thing. I didn't just survive prison. I learned how to run an empire in the dark. And I am taking my son, my man, and my throne back. Chapter 1 Aria's POV The day I walked out of prison, my sister was already living my life, wearing my name, holding my son, and married to the most dangerous man in the city, the one whose child I'd carried alone for nine months. Dominic Valentino. Head of the Valentino crime family. The man every cop in this state knew better than to touch. And Jasmine had just made herself his wife. Daniel was waiting outside the gate. Not Jasmine. Daniel, her boyfriend, the man I'd punched hard enough to break his nose, the reason I'd ended up inside in the first place. He looked at me, then looked away. "She send you?" I said. "She doesn't know I'm here." He talked on the drive over without me asking. The words came out like he'd been holding them too long. I stared at the road and let them land one at a time. Jasmine had taken the ring. The heavy silver band I'd worn on a cord around my neck for nine months, left in my hand by a stranger the night everything fell apart. I'd given it to her with the baby and a handwritten note. Take him to his father. Show him the ring. He'll know. She'd found Dominic Valentino within a week. Took one look at the gates and the men with guns. And told him the baby was hers. "They got married three weeks ago," Daniel said. "Private ceremony." I counted the cracks in his windshield. If I stopped I was going to break something. "Does she take care of the baby?" He didn't answer fast enough. "Daniel." "She has nannies. The kid's fine." My son was four months old, being raised by strangers in a mobster's house, and he was fine. He pulled up near the bus station and reached into the back seat. "There are things about Jasmine you don't know." He held out an envelope. "I'm not asking you to believe me. Just take it." I left it on the seat and got out. I sat on the motel bed thinking about Jasmine at eight years old, feverish and small, while I pressed a cold cloth to her forehead through the night. Dropping out of school at seventeen to cover her medical bills. Every shift I picked up, every meal I skipped, every time she called crying and I came without asking why. I reached up to touch the ring out of habit. Bare skin. Nothing there. I washed my face, pulled my hair back, and walked out in the same clothes I'd worn into that courtroom fourteen months ago. The Valentino estate didn't hide. Iron gates, stone walls, two guards who clocked me before I reached the intercom. "I'm here for Jasmine Harrington," I said. "Valentino," the guard corrected, flat and automatic. "Mrs. Valentino isn't receiving visitors." Mrs. Valentino. The words sat wrong in my mouth even hearing someone else say them. The gate clicked, a black car nosing out from the drive. It stopped two feet from me, window coming down. I knew his face before the rest of me caught up. Dark eyes, sharp jaw, the kind of stillness that had nothing to do with calm. A year older than the last time I'd seen it, and a hundred times colder. He'd been half-delirious in that alley, barely standing, and he'd still looked at me like he was memorizing every detail. I'd thought about that look more times than I'd ever admit. He didn't recognize me now. He just looked at me the way men like him look at small problems, briefly, then gone. "Aria." Jasmine's voice, from the front steps. Silk blouse, perfect hair, heels on a Monday. For one second her face went white. Then the smile came up, wide and warm, like she'd been expecting me all along. "Oh my God." She came down the steps with her arms already open, pulled me into a hug I didn't return, and put her lips to my ear. "Smile," she breathed. "He's watching." I pulled back and looked at her, really looked. The blouse probably cost more than three months of my bar shifts. The ring on her left hand caught the light, a thick silver band with a crest I recognized. My ring. The one I'd sent her to return. She was wearing it on her wedding finger. "Jasmine," I said, keeping my voice even. "Where's the baby?" Something moved behind her eyes. Fast, controlled, gone. "Inside, sleeping." She looped her arm through mine, already turning me toward the house, her grip just a little too tight. "Come in, my cousin, we have so much to catch up on." "What?" I was shocked. Why my sister called me cousin? "Mrs. Valentino," One of the guards stepped forward. "Mr. Valentino hasn't cleared additional guests." Jasmine opened her mouth, but the answer came from behind us, low, unhurried, the kind of voice that didn't need volume to fill a space. "Let her in." Dominic Valentino stood beside the car, one hand in his pocket. Then he paused as he passed me. He watched me with an expression I couldn't read. "She looks familiar," he said. Not to Jasmine. Not to the guard. To me. My pulse kicked once, hard. Chapter 2 Aria's POV "She looks familiar." The words hung in the air, freezing the blood in my veins. Did he recognize me? I held my breath, waiting for the realization to dawn in those icy blue eyes. But before the silence could stretch another second, Jasmine intercepted. "Oh, Dom, this is my cousin," Jasmine said, her voice dropping into a flawless, sugary purr. She stepped closer to him, subtly blocking his line of sight. "People always say we share a family resemblance." Cousin. Standing right there in front of Dominic Valentino, wearing my ring, with my son breathing somewhere inside those stone walls, my only sister looked me dead in the eye and called me her cousin. I didn't flinch. I smiled. Because twenty-five years of cleaning up Jasmine's messes taught me one thing, survival first, anger later. "I don't think you two look alike." Dominic held the gate a second longer than necessary. His gaze dragged from Jasmine's forced smile to my face, dark and unreadable, calculating a sum neither of us could see. Then, he gave a curt nod and walked inside. The moment the heavy door clicked shut behind us, Jasmine's fingers dug into my wrist. She dragged me into a side parlor, out of the camera's blind spot, and shoved the door shut. The sweet, relieved sister vanished. "Don't say a word, Aria," she hissed. "You're wearing my ring." Jasmine glanced at the heavy silver band on her left hand. She didn't look guilty; she looked cornered. "Aria, you don't understand..." "I understand you told the most dangerous man in the city that my son is yours." Tears welled in her eyes. It was a flawless, terrifyingly quick transition. The same look she used when we were kids to get my last dollar. "I was terrified! When I found him, his men were practically shooting the traitors. He was covered in blood. I handed him the ring, and he just... assumed. He looked at me like I was his savior." "So you played the saint." "I played to stay alive!" Her voice broke, looking like she did something great. "He took us in. He gave Luca everything..." "Luca." The name felt like a physical blow. "That's what Dominic named him." Jasmine stepped closer, her tone softening into something venomous and pleading. "Aria, we've been married for three weeks. If he finds out I lied now, he won't just throw me out. He'll kill me. He'll take the baby and you'll never see him again." She let that hang in the air. The ultimate threat disguised as a warning. She knew exactly where to twist the knife. "What do you want, Jasmine?" I kept my voice dead flat. "Be his nanny." Relief washed over her features. "Just for a while. You get to be close to him. I get someone I can actually trust in this house. I'll tell Dominic you needed work. That's it." She reached out, touching my arm. "He's your son, Aria. He needs you." I stared at her hand. Then at her face. I knew none of this was about what Luca needed. It was about Jasmine keeping her throne. "If anyone hurts him in this house," I said, my voice dropping to a whisper, "I will burn it down with you inside." Jasmine blinked, stepping back. She forced a smile. "Follow me." The nursery was on the second floor. I heard the crying before we even reached the door, a frantic, exhausted wail that made my chest physically ache. I pushed past Jasmine and went straight to the crib. He was tiny, red-faced, fists curled tight. Four months old. Dark hair. My son. My hands were shaking as I scooped him up. The second his cheek hit my chest, he startled. Then, he inhaled, buried his face into the crook of my neck, and grabbed a fistful of my collar. The crying stopped instantly. Hi, baby, I thought, closing my eyes as a tear slipped down my jaw. I'm so sorry I'm late. "He's been crying for an hour." My eyes snapped open. Dominic stood in the doorway. He'd shed his suit jacket. The gun holstered at his ribs was in plain sight. He wasn't looking at Jasmine. He was staring at me. "He wanted to be held," I said, my voice tighter than I meant it to be. "Jasmine said to let him cry it out. Said he needed discipline." Dominic's voice was a low rumble. I didn't look at my sister. I just tightened my hold on Luca. Dominic took a slow step into the room. His gaze drifted down, just for a fraction of a second, to my left shoulder, which was covered by my collar, where my birthmark was. Did he remember something about that night a year ago? His eyes snapped back up to mine. The temperature in the room plummeted. "What did you say your name was?" "Aria," I said. "Just Aria." He nodded, slow and deliberate. "You're on night duty, Aria." He turned and walked out, leaving the air completely entirely out of the room. Chapter 3 Aria's POV The echo of his footsteps hadn't even faded before Jasmine was moving. She threw herself out of the nursery and into the hallway, catching up to him before he reached the top of the stairs. "Dom, wait," she called out. The venom from a moment ago vanished, replaced instantly by a breathless, sugary whine. I stood in the doorway, Luca resting against my chest, and watched my sister go to his daddy. Jasmine reached out, wrapping her manicured fingers around his bicep. "I was thinking, since I've been so stressed with the baby... maybe we could go shopping downtown today? Just the two of us?" Dominic stopped. He didn't look at her face. He looked at her hand on his arm. The shift was microscopic, but I saw it. He withdrew his arm with a chilling, utter detachment, leaving Jasmine's hands grasping at empty air. "I have business," he said. The tone wasn't that of a bloodthirsty monster. It was the tone of a man addressing a minor, inconvenient employee. He reached into his jacket, pulled out a sleek black titanium card, and held it out. "Take the car. Take some guards with you." He didn't wait for her to take it and just slid it onto the hallway console table and walked down the stairs without a backward glance. Jasmine stared after him, her jaw tight, before snatching the card. She glanced back and caught me watching. I raised an eyebrow. If he finds out I lied, he'll kill me. I tightened my hold on Luca. Dominic Valentino might be a ruthless mob boss to the rest of the world, but to Jasmine? He wasn't some terrifying, abusive tyrant holding her hostage. He was just a deep pocket who barely tolerated her presence. Another lie. Another manipulation to keep me playing her game. The estate settled into a suffocating silence around two in the morning. I was dozing in the armchair next to the crib when the first whimper broke the quiet. By the time I was on my feet, Luca was letting out a sharp, agonizing wail. I scooped him up, immediately feeling the heat radiating through his soft onesie. A fever. Not dangerously high, but enough to make a four-month-old miserable. "Shh, I know, I know," I whispered, pressing his flushed cheek to my neck. I went into the adjoining bathroom, wet a soft washcloth with tepid water, and began pacing the dim nursery. I wiped the back of his neck, his little wrists, gently bouncing him with a rhythmic sway that my body seemed to remember on a cellular level. The crying wouldn't stop. He was frustrated, hot, and exhausted. Without thinking, I closed my eyes and let a melody slip past my lips. It was an old, quiet lullaby I had hummed to the concrete walls of my cell in Lockwood Correctional. I used to press my hands to my swollen belly in the dark, singing it until the baby stopped kicking and went to sleep. "Hush now, little one, the storm is passing by..." I sang softly, letting the vibration of my chest soothe him. "Rest your head, the dawn is in the sky..." It worked like magic. Within minutes, the frantic wailing dissolved into small, sleepy hiccups. Luca's tiny fists uncurled, his breathing evening out against my collarbone as he drifted back to sleep. "He likes that song." I gasped, spinning around. Dominic was leaning against the doorframe, a shadow detached from the darker hallway. He had stripped off his suit jacket and tie, his dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar. In his hand was a glass of warm water. How long had he been standing there? He pushed off the frame and walked silently into the room. The sheer size of him made the spacious nursery feel suddenly small. He stopped a foot away and held out the glass. "Drink," he ordered softly. "You've been pacing for twenty minutes." I took the glass with my free hand, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Thank you." He didn't step back. He stood there, watching me take a sip, his dark eyes missing nothing in the dim moonlight. "Fourteen months in Lockwood Correctional Facility," he said. It was a statement of fact. My blood ran cold, but I forced my face to remain completely blank. Of course he ran a background check for his son. He was the head of the Valentino family. "You do your homework, Mr. Valentino," I said, keeping my voice low so as not to wake Luca. "I don't let strangers sleep fifty feet from my son without knowing exactly what they are capable of," Dominic replied, his gaze locking onto mine. "Aggravated assault. You put a man in the hospital." I met his stare evenly. I knew exactly what the police report said. "I hit a scumbag who was putting his hands on his girlfriend. He pressed charges. I'd do it again." I left out Daniel's name. I left out Jasmine. And I prayed to God that the prison records his men pulled were the redacted ones that didn't mention the prison infirmary. Or the birth. Dominic stared at me. The silence stretched, thick and heavy. He was looking for a crack, a tell, a lie. Then, he took a half-step closer. The scent of bergamot, expensive scotch, and gun oil wrapped around me. I stopped breathing. He reached out. I braced myself, but his hand didn't go to my throat. His thumb gently brushed a stray curl of hair away from my collarbone. His skin was rough, calloused, and the contact sent an electric shock straight down my spine. His fingers lingered for a fraction of a second, hovering just millimeters above the fabric of my shirt, right over the spot where my birthmark lay hidden. His dark eyes dropped to my lips, then slowly drifted back up to hold my gaze. "You don't hold him like a beginner," Dominic murmured, his voice dropping an octave, vibrating with a dangerous, quiet intensity. "Tell me, Aria... have you ever had a child?" Chapter 4 Aria's POV "Tell me, Aria... have you ever had a child?" The question hung in the dimly lit nursery, sounding heavy. My heart slammed in my chest so hard I was sure he could hear it. I forced a laugh, a dry sound that scraped the back of my throat. "I worked odd jobs, Mr. Valentino," I lied, keeping my voice steady. "Daycares. Babysitting for double shifts. When you're handed a screaming infant and told to make it stop, you figure it out fast." Dominic didn't blink. His dark eyes searched my face, dissecting every micro-expression. "Is that so." "Yes. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to put him down." I put down my Luca and then turned away too fast. Panic made my movements jerky. My foot caught on the edge of the thick Persian rug, and I couldn't brace for the fall. I didn't hit the ground. A large, calloused hand clamped around my waist like a steel vice, yanking me backward. I crashed hard against a solid wall of muscle. Dominic's other arm wrapped around my front, securing me against his chest in one fluid, impossibly fast motion. The air rushed out of my lungs. My back was arched, my chest pressed flush against him as I twisted my head to look up. For a split second, the elegant nursery faded. I remembered that night a year ago! The smell of rain, copper blood, and raw danger. An alleyway swallowed by shadows. The feverish heat of a man poisoned and cornered, gripping my waist with strength. He had lifted me off the ground with one arm, pressing my upper body flush against his, our breaths mingling as the world tilted... A sudden, sharp intake of breath snapped me back to the present. I was staring up into Dominic's face. He was inches away, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked beneath his skin. My chest heaved, my breasts brushing the hard plane of his chest with every ragged breath. Heat radiated from his palm, scorching through the thin cotton of my shirt, sending a treacherous, electric weakness straight down to my knees. He was perfectly still, but the rigid tension of his body betrayed him. Against my hip, I could feel the hard shift of his physical reaction. Yet, his face remained a mask of flawless, chilling indifference. "Careful," he murmured, his voice a dark, vibrating rasp that seemed to echo in my bones. "Thank you," I gasped, instantly pulling away the moment his grip loosened. My legs were trembling so violently I could barely stand. I forced me to keep looking a Luca into the crib, not daring to look back. "Goodnight, Mr. Valentino." I heard his footsteps retreat. When I finally turned, the doorway was empty. By noon the next day, the tension in the estate had morphed into something entirely different. Jasmine was on the warpath. She had noticed. Of course she had. Jasmine possessed a predator's instinct for whenever a man's attention wavered from her, and Dominic's icy dismissal the previous night had sent her into a spiral of vicious insecurity. She needed to assert her dominance, and I was the easiest target. "Aria," Jasmine's voice sliced through the quiet of the grand library. I paused, a heavy stack of leather-bound books in my arms. Dominic was seated at the massive mahogany desk at the far end of the room, listening to his assistant Chase read a security report. He didn't look up, but the scratching of his pen stopped. Jasmine stood near the towering, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, draped in a silk lounger, sipping espresso. "You missed a spot on the upper molding. Just because I took pity on you and gave you a job doesn't mean you can slack off in front of my husband." "The cleaning staff handles the high shelves, Jasmine," I said evenly. "Call me Mrs. Valentino! And I'm telling you to do it. " She smiled, a brittle, cruel thing. "Use the rolling ladder. Don't be lazy." I clenched my jaw. Arguing would only draw Dominic's scrutiny. I set the books down and walked over to the wooden ladder attached to the brass rail. I climbed, step by step, feeling the weight of two pairs of eyes on my back, Jasmine's glaring with spite, and another, heavier gaze burning from the desk. I reached the top rung, stretching my arm with a cloth to dust the ornate woodwork. Below, Jasmine shifted. The heel of her stiletto "accidentally" kicked the base of the ladder. The brass wheels screeched. The ladder jerked violently to the right. "Ah!" My fingers slipped from the molding. The world tipped sideways. I fell. I braced for the shattering impact of the marble floor, but it never came. A blur of movement crossed the room. Two powerful arms caught me mid-air, the impact driving the breath from my lungs as we hit the edge of a side table. There was a sharp, tearing sound of fabric. A sharp corner of the table's brass fixture had caught the neckline of my shirt as I tumbled into Dominic's arms. The thin cotton ripped violently down my collarbone, exposing my left shoulder completely to the cold air of the library. I gasped, scrambling to right myself in his arms, my hand flying up to cover my chest. But I was too slow. Dominic froze. The arms holding me went entirely rigid. His dark eyes were locked on my bare skin. Right on the pale, light-brown birthmark, shaped like a crescent moon, resting on the curve of my left shoulder. The air vanished from the room. I watched his pupils dilate, a shockwave of recognition, disbelief, and raw fury crashing across his face. "Dominic? Oh my god, Dom, what happened?!" Jasmine's frantic, high-pitched voice echoed as she sprinted toward us, her face pale with fake concern. "Are you okay?" Dominic didn't look at her. He didn't even acknowledge she was in the room. His hand shot out, his long fingers wrapping around my wrist in a vice-like grip. He yanked my hand away from my torn collar, exposing the birthmark again. His breathing was heavy, chaotic. The terrifyingly calm mob boss was gone, replaced by the man from the alleyway. "Dominic?" Jasmine faltered, stopping a few feet away, panic finally bleeding into her voice. "What... what's wrong?" Dominic blocked her sight. She didn't notice he had seen my birthmark. Dominic slowly raised his eyes from my shoulder to my face. His jaw was locked so tight I thought his teeth might shatter. "Who," he ground out, his voice a barely restrained growl, "exactly are you?" Chapter 5 Aria's POV "Who," he ground out, his voice a barely restrained growl, "exactly are you?" My pulse hammered wildly. The grip he had on my wrist was bruising, his dark eyes tearing through my defenses, searching for the ghost of a woman he had met in an alleyway a year ago. Before I could force a single word past the lump in my throat, Jasmine thrust herself between us. "Dom, stop, you're hurting her!" Jasmine wedged her hands against his chest, her voice pitching into a perfect octave of wifely distress. She glanced at my torn collar, her eyes widening for a second in sheer panic before her instincts kicked in. "Oh," Jasmine let out a breathless, forced laugh, her hands flattening against Dominic's pristine shirt. "You saw her mark. Darling, I told you about my family." Dominic's gaze didn't leave my face. "What family?" "The birthmark, Dom." Jasmine reached up, deliberately pulling the silk collar of her lounger down to expose her own right shoulder. "It's a Harrington family trait. I have one, and my cousin Aria has one too. See?" I stared at her bare skin. There, painted flawlessly with waterproof cosmetic ink, was a crescent-shaped mark. It was exactly same as mine. She had prepared for this. She had known the birthmark would be a detail Dominic might remember from that night, and she had forged it on her own body to solidify her lie. Dominic slowly turned his head to look at Jasmine's shoulder. His jaw flexed. The chaotic, violent storm in his eyes didn't vanish, but it receded behind a thick wall of ice. He released my wrist as if my skin had burned him. Without another word, he stepped back, adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, and looked at his assistant standing quietly by the door. "Chase. We're leaving. Now." The heavy doors of the library slammed shut behind them, leaving a suffocating silence in their wake. The moment the lock clicked, Jasmine's fragile facade shattered. She lunged at me, grabbing my arms, her perfectly manicured nails digging into my skin. "Are you insane?!" she hissed, her face inches from mine, eyes wild and vicious. "Are you trying to get us killed?" "I slipped, Jasmine," I said coldly, shoving her hands off me. "You listen to me," she breathed, her voice trembling with real, unadulterated fear. "If he finds out the truth, he won't just divorce me. He will put a bullet in my head, and then he will put one in yours for lying under his roof. Do you understand? You will be dead, and Luca will be raised by another woman. You will never see your son again." She hit the exact nerve she was aiming for. My stomach dropped, bile rising in my throat. I pulled my torn shirt tight across my chest, turned on my heel, and walked out. Over the next forty-eight hours, the estate felt like a powder keg waiting for a spark. Dominic avoided the residential wing entirely, barricading himself in his study or leaving for "business" before sunrise. But my attention had shifted to something far more alarming than Dominic Valentino's piercing stares. It was Luca. During the day, when Jasmine supposedly "supervised" his care while I slept, the baby was practically a zombie. He barely made a sound, sleeping through feedings, his little limbs limp and lethargic. But the moment midnight struck and my shift began, it was as if a spell broke. Luca would wake up screaming, his tiny body rigid, crying with a frantic, desperate agony that tore my heart to shreds. Babies had colic. Babies had sleep regressions. But this felt horribly, sickeningly unnatural. On the third afternoon, I woke up early. The sprawling mansion was unusually busy. Maria Valentino, Dominic's grandmother, had arrived for an unannounced visit. I found them in the sunroom. Jasmine was sitting stiffly on a velvet sofa, scrolling on her phone, while Maria sat in a high-backed armchair. The old woman was blind, her eyes milky and unfocused, but she held Luca securely in her lap. I stood in the doorway, watching as Maria gently ran her weathered, ring-covered fingers over Luca's pale, sleeping face. "He is too quiet," Maria murmured, her raspy voice laced with a heavy Italian accent. "A Valentino baby does not sleep like a stone, Jasmine. He breathes like he is swimming in deep water." "He's just a good sleeper, Nonna," Jasmine said dismissively, not looking up from her screen. "The doctor said he's perfectly healthy." I walked over to the small cart holding Luca's used daytime bottles. I intended to gather them for the dishwasher, but as I picked up the plastic bottle Jasmine had supposedly fed him an hour ago, something caught my eye. The milk was gone, but caught in the ridge of the plastic bottom was a thick, chalky white residue. Formula didn't clump like that. Not if it was mixed with warm water. I turned my back to the room, my heart suddenly racing. I unscrewed the cap, swiped a finger against the bottom of the bottle, and brought it to my nose. It didn't smell like milk. It smelled faintly chemical, bitter. My blood froze in my veins. Sleeping pills. She was drugging my baby. To keep him quiet so she didn't have to deal with him during the day. A visceral, blinding rage exploded in my chest. My vision actually went white at the edges. I spun around, the bottle gripped so tightly in my hand the plastic groaned. Jasmine looked up. She saw my face. She saw the bottle in my hand. For a split second, I saw the truth flash in her eyes, the guilt, the realization that I knew exactly what she had done. But Jasmine was a survivor, and her counterattack was quick. She threw her phone across the room, stood up, and let out a blood-curdling scream. "Help! Someone help me!" Jasmine shrieked, rushing toward Maria and snatching the sleeping baby from the old woman's arms. "She's poisoning my baby! Help!" Chapter 6 Aria's POV The doors burst open. Dominic strode in, his face murderous, with Chase right on his heels. "Dom!" Jasmine sobbed, clutching Luca to her chest as she pointed a shaking finger at me. "I caught her! I saw her putting powder in his milk! She's unhinged, Dominic! She has a criminal record for assault. She's a violent felon! Call the police! Send her back to prison before she kills him!" The sunroom descended into chaos. The guards at the door reached for their weapons. Maria gripped the arms of her chair, her blind eyes wide. My eyes were rimmed red, filled with a mother's protective fury. I stood my ground, my chest heaving, refusing to let go of the bottle in my hand. I stared straight at Jasmine, silently promising her that if my son was hurt, I would tear her apart with my bare hands. Dominic's eyes swept the room. They bypassed his hysterical wife. They bypassed his confused grandmother. They locked onto me. He looked at my shaking hands, the death grip I had on the baby bottle, and the raw, absolute devastation on my face. Dominic held his hand out toward me, his voice a lethal, terrifyingly calm command that silenced the entire room. "Give me the bottle." He didn't blink. He turned his head slightly to his assistant. "Chase. Lock down the estate. Nobody leaves. And pull the security footage from the nursery for the last forty-eight hours." I handed Dominic the plastic bottle. Our fingers brushed. His skin was ice cold. "A doctor," I choked out, ignoring Jasmine's fake sobs. "Please. Look at him. He is too pale. Get a doctor for Luca first. The cameras do not matter right now." Jasmine clutched the baby tighter to her chest. "Don't listen to her, Dom! She wants a doctor to cover her tracks! She is dangerous!" Dominic stared at me. His jaw locked. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. "Dr. Evans. Get to the estate. Five minutes." He ended the call and handed the bottle to Chase. "Take this to the lab." We waited in the main living room. The doctor went upstairs to check Luca. Jasmine paced the floor, crying loud, dramatic tears. I stood by the large glass window, my arms wrapped around myself. My chest ached. I just wanted my son to be okay. Chase walked into the room. His face was grim. "Boss," Chase said. "The nursery cameras went dark at 1:00 PM. Someone wiped the local drive." Jasmine gasped. "She destroyed the footage!" I frowned. I did not know how to hack a security system. I looked out the window. Down by the service gates, a dark gray sedan was pulling away. The driver rolled down his window to scan a badge. Daniel. My blood ran cold. Jasmine's boyfriend. He had security clearance to visit her. He wiped the cameras. "Throw her out, Dominic!" Jasmine yelled. "She drugged my baby and erased the video. Send her back to jail!" The guards stepped closer to me. The air in the room grew thin. I had no proof. Jasmine had set the perfect trap. The heavy thump of a wooden cane hit the marble floor. Maria walked forward. The blind woman moved with purpose. She stopped right in front of me. She reached out and grabbed my right hand. I flinched, but she held on. Her thumbs rubbed over my palms. She felt the thick calluses from years of waitressing and prison laundry. "Nonna, get away from her," Jasmine pleaded. Maria ignored her. She turned her sightless eyes toward her grandson. "The person who drugged my Luca had a heart beating like a drum," Maria said, her voice dry and firm. "You smelled like fear, Jasmine. But this girl..." Maria squeezed my rough hand. "This girl has the hands of someone who works. She only asked for a doctor. She genuinely cares for Luca. Dominic, are you blind?" Silence filled the room. Jasmine turned pale. Dominic looked from his grandmother to me. He raised a hand. The guards stepped back. Midnight. The estate was dark. Dr. Evans had cleared Luca, saying the dose was small and he would sleep it off. I sat on the edge of my small bed, staring at the blank wall. The door handle turned. Dominic stepped inside. He closed the door behind him. The room was small, and his massive frame took up all the space. He did not yell. He did not ask about the sleeping pills. He tossed a thick manila folder onto my mattress. I looked down. It had the Lockwood Correctional logo stamped on the front. "I read your prison file," Dominic said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "Who did you take the fall for?" Chapter 7 Aria's POV "I told the police everything," I said, staring at the thick file on my bed. "I hit a guy who put his hands on his girlfriend." I refused to let Dominic dig into my past. A year ago, I walked into my cramped apartment after that dark alley encounter. I found Daniel pushing Jasmine against a wall. He tried to force a kiss. I swung hard and broke his nose. Jasmine panicked and kicked him in the ribs. Daniel ended up in the hospital. Jasmine was still in college. I took the blame so her record stayed clean. Dominic watched me. His dark blue eyes gave nothing away. "The sleeping pill investigation is paused," he said with a flat voice. "I hired a team to recover the wiped camera data. The lab is pulling fingerprints off the plastic bottle." My chest tightened. "You still think I did it." "You are a suspect. But Luca screams if anyone else holds him." He tapped the folder against his leg. "You keep your job, Aria. For now." He turned and walked out. I stared at the closed door. Why did he explain his plan to me? A brutal mafia boss would just lock me in a basement and throw away the key. Dominic Valentino used logic. He relied on evidence. I realized he was not a cruel monster. He was just a man protecting his son. The next few days fell into a strange routine. Jasmine stayed away from the estate. She spent her hours buying designer clothes and getting spa treatments. With me and Luca out of her sight, Jasmine felt safe. I learned the layout of the massive house. I also noticed a glaring detail. Jasmine's bedroom was down the hall from the nursery. Dominic slept in the master suite on the opposite side of the estate. They did not share a bed. A heavy knot in my stomach loosened at that thought. I pushed the feeling away and focused on Luca. Thursday afternoon brought warm sunlight. I sat on a blanket in the manicured garden, letting Luca grab at the green grass. He giggled. The bright sound made me smile. "Well, this is a beautiful sight." I looked up. A man leaned against the stone fountain. He had messy brown hair, an expensive linen suit, and a lazy grin. He shared Dominic's sharp jawline, but his energy was loose and playful. "Are you lost?" I asked, pulling Luca closer to my chest. The man laughed. He walked over and sat on the grass right next to me. "I live here. Sometimes. I am Marco. Dominic's cousin." He leaned in, his blue eyes dropping to my lips. "And who is the stunning woman holding my little nephew?" "I am the nanny," I said, ignoring his charm. "A tragedy," Marco sighed, touching a lock of my hair. "A face like yours belongs on a magazine cover, not hidden in a nursery." I slapped his hand away. Marco just laughed harder. That night, the house filled with people. Dominic hosted a welcome-back dinner for Marco. The dining room glowed with crystal chandeliers. I stayed near the back hallway, keeping a sleepy Luca quiet in my arms. Marco drank wine and told loud stories about his trip to Europe. Jasmine sat near Dominic. She tried to hold his hand. Dominic kept his hands flat on the table. After dinner, a string quartet started playing in the grand hall. Guests moved to the dance floor. Marco spotted me by the stairs. He set his drink down and walked over. "Give the baby to a maid," Marco said, holding out his hand. "Dance with me." "I am working, Marco," I said. Jasmine appeared out of the crowd. Her eyes sparkled with malice. She wanted me gone. A rich, playboy cousin was the perfect distraction. "Oh, Aria, go ahead," Jasmine said with a sweet smile. "You work too hard. Marco is a great catch. You're my cousin. He's Dom's cousin. Maybe you two will fall in love and get married. I will watch Luca." She reached for the baby. Luca whimpered and turned his face into my neck. He gripped my shirt tight. Marco grinned. "See? The baby is fine. My future bride needs a dance." He grabbed my free hand. He pulled me toward the center of the hall. The music swelled. I tried to pull back, but Marco spun me around. A large hand clamped over Marco's wrist. The movement was so fast I gasped. Dominic stood between us. His face was carved from stone. The air around him felt heavy and cold. He shoved Marco's hand away. Dominic wrapped his arm around my waist. He pulled me flush against his side. "She has to take care of Luca tonight," Dominic said, his voice a low, vibrating threat. "She is going nowhere." The music played, but the room went still. Marco lowered his hands. His lazy smile vanished. He stared at Dominic's arm wrapped tight around my waist. Marco's eyes flicked to my face, then back to his cousin. "Dom," Marco said. "Is that how you look at a nanny?"