MasukThe Mafia Boss’s Tiny Trouble Dante Moretti is the most feared mafia boss in the city. Ruthless, powerful, and completely incapable of trusting anyone, he has built his empire on one simple rule: never show weakness. Then, one rainy night, his men discover a baby girl abandoned at the gates of his mansion. With nothing but a blanket and a note bearing her name—**Luna**—Dante suddenly finds himself responsible for a tiny human who refuses to be intimidated by his reputation. His dangerous soldiers become amateur babysitters, his luxurious mansion turns into a nursery, and the cold-hearted Don discovers that the only person capable of making him smile is a baby who cannot even say his name. But Luna isn't the only unexpected addition to Dante's life. When Mia Rossi's father fails to repay his enormous debt to Dante, he offers his daughter as payment. Mia arrives at the Moretti mansion expecting the worst, only to discover that her terrifying new employer is struggling to survive sleepless nights, dirty diapers, and a baby who has completely taken over his life. Mia is supposed to be nothing more than a maid working off her father's debt. Instead, she becomes Luna's favorite person—and the only woman brave enough to challenge Dante at every turn. As Mia and Dante are thrown together by their tiny troublemaker, irritation slowly becomes attraction, attraction becomes something deeper, and the feared mafia boss begins to discover a side of himself he never knew existed. But Luna's arrival was no accident. Someone knows who she is. Someone wants her back. And when danger finally reaches Dante's doorstep, he must choose between protecting the empire he spent his entire life building and protecting the two women who have unexpectedly become his whole world.
Lihat lebih banyakFor twenty years, the Moretti organization had a very simple rule: Dante was the boss, and everyone else followed. It was a system built on fear and discipline. When Dante spoke, the world moved.By the end of Luna's first week in the house, a new hierarchy had quietly formed. Nobody had voted on it, and nobody had officially agreed to it, but it was happening anyway."The two o'clock with the Kowalskis has to move," Salvatore said. He was standing in the doorway of Dante's study with a tablet in his hand and the tired voice of a man who had stopped being surprised by his own life a few days ago."Why.""She naps at two. If we push the meeting, she'll be cranky through dinner. Dinner is when the Bratva call is scheduled, and if she's fussy during that, you won't be able to hear yourself think, let alone negotiate territory."Dante thought about this with the same seriousness he’d give a security breach. "Move the Kowalski meeting to eleven.""Eleven conflicts with her feeding.""Then
Vittorio Conti had killed eleven men in the line of duty, survived two assassination attempts, and once walked out of a burning building carrying a heavy safe under one arm without even breaking his stride. By a general—and slightly terrified—consensus, he was the most frightening man on Dante’s payroll. He was six-and-a-half feet of silence and scar tissue who mostly communicated through stares. On at least three documented occasions, those stares had caused grown men to confess to crimes they hadn't even been accused of yet.Until this particular Tuesday, he had never been asked to hold a baby."Absolutely not," Vittorio said. His voice was the kind of low rumble that had ended more disputes than most men's guns."It's an order," Dante replied. He was already halfway out the study door, half-buttoning his jacket and running late for a meeting he’d already pushed back twice this week. "I need everyone else on the security sweep before the Bratva meeting tonight. You're the only one l
The crib lasted exactly one night. After that, Dante gave up on the whole idea.It wasn’t for lack of effort. He’d put the thing together himself—mostly—and tucked it right next to his own bed instead of in the nursery, figuring that being close by would fix whatever the problem was. At Marco’s insistence, he’d even skimmed an article about infant sleep schedules that used the phrase "self-soothing" so many times it started to sound like a threat. He’d dimmed the lights, kept his voice down, and followed every single tip from the four parenting print-outs Salvatore had left on his desk without saying a word.The second Luna touched the mattress, she screamed. And she didn't stop.He tried the star mobile. He tried the white noise machine Enzo had bought—apparently operating on the theory that spending money equals competence. In a moment of total desperation around midnight, he even tried singing. It was a quiet, clumsy version of an old Italian lullaby he barely remembered, something
"We need a list," Marco announced. He was standing in the kitchen with a legal pad, looking as intense as if he were planning a corporate takeover. "Diapers. Formula. Bottles. A crib, because the drawer situation isn't going to work for long. And clothes, because she’s currently wearing one of Enzo's undershirts and, no offense, it's a bad look.""It's a fine look," Enzo shot back. "She looks like a tiny linebacker.""She looks like she was dressed in the dark by someone who's never seen a child before.""Which is true, Marco. None of us have kids—""That’s not the point—"Dante, sitting at the head of the table with Luna balanced against his shoulder, pinched the bridge of his nose. For the first time that week, he seriously wondered if it would be easier to just move his entire operation into a monastery."Get everything on the list," he said. "Today."Salvatore blinked slowly. "You want us to go... to a store?""That's usually how shopping works, yes.""Boss, with all respect—look
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