جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 7

"Who the hell leaves a baby on my porch?"Dante Moretti didn't have an answer, and he really didn't want one. He had spent the last three hours in a damp warehouse on the east side of the city, playing peacemaker and executioner in equal measure. He'd managed to stop a war before it could start, though it cost him his patience and a few hours of sleep he’d never get back. Usually, nights like this left him wired, his mind racing through every possible betrayal, but tonight he just felt old. He wanted a drink, a shower, and ten hours of uninterrupted sleep.He did not want a basket on his doorstep.His driver spotted it first. As the car rolled up the gravel drive, the headlights swept across the marble entrance and caught something that didn't belong."Boss," the driver said, his voice cautious. "There's something at the door."Dante was out of the car before it even came to a full stop.Up close, it wasn't just a basket. It was a baby—tiny, bundled in clothes way too thin for the wea

"I want every contact we have," Dante said. He was standing at the head of the long table in his war room, while Luna slept in a bassinet that had been awkwardly wedged between a stack of ledgers and a laptop. "Checking hospitals, adoption agencies, every private clinic within two hundred miles. I want to know who gave birth to a girl her age in the last year. I want to know who's gone missing. Give me a name by the end of the week."Six of his top guys sat around the table, but not one of them was looking at him. They were all staring at the baby."Boss," Salvatore said, choosing his words carefully, "are we sure that's the priority right now?""She's not staying here forever, Salvatore. Of course it is.""It's just—" Salvatore looked at the others, waiting for a nod of agreement before continuing, "—we've got a shipment coming through the docks Thursday that needs eyes on it. The Bratva want to renegotiate the north side territory. And Marco's spent the last six hours arguing with E

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

For 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