Chapter 2 - The Devil's House
Morning light filtered through the bulletproof glass of the Rossi estate. Clara awoke in a plush, velvet-draped guest room, baby Leo sleeping peacefully in a mahogany crib beside her. For the first time in eighteen days, Clara's chest didn't feel like it was collapsing.
When she carried Leo downstairs, the house was a hive of quiet, lethal activity. Men in dark suits spoke in hushed tones over encrypted phones. Weapons were casually disassembled and cleaned on a massive granite kitchen island.
Dante sat at the head of the dining table, nursing a glass of black coffee. He looked up as she entered.
"He slept through the night," Dante stated. It wasn't a question. It was a miracle. "His mother walked out three weeks ago. Since then, he hasn't slept for more than an hour at a time. The pediatricians couldn't fix it. My men couldn't fix it."
"He didn't need medicine," Clara said softly, adjusting Leo on her hip. "He needed a heartbeat that didn't sound like it was bracing for a war."
Dante’s jaw tightened. "And yours doesn't?"
"My war is already over, Mr. Rossi. I lost."
Dante stood, walking slowly toward her. He was a terrifyingly massive man, built for violence, but when he reached out to trace a finger over his son's sleeping cheek, his touch was impossibly gentle.
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"I will pay you ten thousand dollars a week," Dante said, his gaze locking with hers. "You live here. You do not leave the estate without my guards. You ask no questions about my business. In return, you keep my son safe, and you want for nothing. Do we have a deal, Clara?"
Clara looked at the baby in her arms. She had nothing left in the world to lose. "Yes."
