CHAPTER 4

SERENIA POV

A maid arrived a few minutes later, quietly leaving a tray with a steaming porcelain pot of coffee and a fluffy white towel. She glanced at me with a look that was equal parts pity and curiosity before slipping out of the study as fast as her legs could carry her.

I took the towel and began aggressively drying my hair, not caring if I looked messy in front of a billionaire or whatever he was.

Matteo watched me from behind his desk, his arms crossed over his chest. The silence stretched between us, thick and heavy. Leo was still standing behind his uncle’s chair, peeking out at me with wide, completely silent eyes. The crying had stopped, but the tension in the room hadn't.

Matteo glanced at his watch, then looked back up at me. His eyes were cold, sharp, and totally deadpan.

"You have exactly five minutes," Matteo said, his voice flat.

I paused, the towel wrapped around my head. "Five minutes for what?"

"To make him stop crying permanently and get him to behave," Matteo said, gesturing vaguely toward his nephew. "If he starts screaming again within the next five minutes, my men will escort you and your basket of cats off my property. I don't have time for games, Serenia."

"And if I succeed?" I asked, throwing the damp towel onto the corner of his desk.

"Then we discuss your employment," he said. "Your five minutes start now."

I didn't waste a second. I stood up from the comfortable leather chair and walked around the desk. The three bodyguards by the door instantly straightened up, their hands moving closer to their jackets. I ignored them. They weren't the ones paying my bills.

I stopped a few feet away from Leo. He immediately pulled back, hiding behind Matteo's thigh again.

Instead of hovering over him or using a fake, high-pitched "baby voice" that most adults used, I shrugged my shoulders and sat down right there on the hardwood floor. I crossed my legs, bringing myself down to his eye level.

Matteo raised an eyebrow, watching me from his chair.

I looked at Leo. He looked at me. He had a smudge of dirt on his cheek and a tiny piece of green broccoli leaf stuck to his shirt.

"Hey, kid," I said, keeping my voice casual and conversational. "You like chocolate, right?"

Leo blinked, his small lips trembling slightly. He gave a tiny, hesitant nod. "Yes."

"Me too," I said. "But your uncle over there is kind of a buzzkill. He's not going to give you chocolate for lunch. Believe me, I've dealt with guys like him before. They're stubborn."

Matteo let out a low, warning cough from above us. "Serenia."

"I'm working here, Mr. Alcantara. Don't interrupt," I said without looking up at him. I turned my attention back to the toddler. "Look, Leo. Here’s the deal. I’m broke, and you’re angry. We both want something from this guy."

Leo tilted his head, his interest clearly piqued. He took a small step away from Matteo's leg, moving a little closer to me. "What do you want?"

"I want his money," I said honestly. "And you want to do whatever you want. Right now, there's a plate of broccoli and chicken sitting in the kitchen. It looks gross, I know. But if you go out there, sit down, and eat three pieces of that broccoli, I will make a deal with you."

Leo narrowed his eyes, looking incredibly suspicious for a four-year-old. "What deal?"

I reached into my hoodie pocket and pulled out a small, shiny bobby pin. I held it up between my fingers, letting it catch the light.

"If you eat that food," I whispered, leaning in closer so only he could hear, "I will teach you how to picklock a bedroom door using just this piece of metal. Next time your uncle locks you out of a room or hides your toys, you can just unlock it yourself. Deal?"

Leo’s jaw literally dropped. He stared at the bobby pin like it was a magical wand. He looked up at Matteo, then back down at me.

"Really?" Leo whispered, his eyes shining with sudden excitement.

"I don't break my promises," I said, holding out my pinky finger toward him. "Pinky swear. Three pieces of broccoli. That's all it takes."

Leo didn't hesitate. He wrapped his tiny pinky around mine, squeezing it with surprising strength. "Deal!"

Without a single tear or complaint, the little boy turned around and ran out of the study, heading straight toward the kitchen.

The silence that followed was deafening.

I slowly stood up from the floor, brushing some invisible dust off my jeans. I looked over at the three bodyguards by the door. All three of them had their mouths wide open, staring at the empty doorway where Leo had just disappeared. One of them actually wiped a fake tear from his eye.

I turned back to look at Matteo.

The terrifying, ruthless man was completely speechless. He was staring at me like I had just performed a literal miracle right in front of him. His hands were still hovering over his desk, frozen in place.

"What..." Matteo started, his voice cracking slightly before he cleared his throat. He shook his head, trying to regain his composure. "What did you just say to him?"

"Just some basic negotiation tactics," I said, walking back to my chair and sitting down comfortably. I poured myself a cup of the hot coffee. "Like I said, you can't threaten a toddler. You have to offer them an incentive."

"You promised to teach my nephew how to commit a felony," Matteo said, his voice dropping into a dark, deadpan tone. But I could see a tiny hint of amusement flickering in his exhausted eyes.

"Hey, it got him to eat his vegetables," I said, taking a sip of the coffee. It was incredibly good, probably costing more than my entire net worth. "That's a win in my book. And technically, my five minutes aren't even up yet."

Matteo leaned back in his leather chair, a slow, calculated expression returning to his face. He stared at me for a long time, the heavy silence returning to the room. He looked at my worn-out shoes, my messy hair, and then at the silver paperweight on his desk.

"You're completely insane," Matteo muttered, though there was no real anger in his voice.

"I prefer the term 'highly motivated by poverty,'" I replied, flashing him a bright, sarcastic smile.

Matteo didn't smile back, but the tight, stressed lines around his eyes seemed to relax just a fraction. He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a thick, black leather folder, dropping it onto the desk with a heavy thud.