All Chapters of The Mafia Boss’s Tiny Trouble : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

By the end of her first week, Mia had a full schedule pinned to the nursery wall and a color-coded system for bottle temperatures that had Enzo practically weeping with gratitude. She also had something else: the absolute, unwavering devotion of a nine-month-old who had decided, with total certainty, that Mia was the best thing to ever happen to her.It started small. Luna would reach for Mia first during handoffs, even ignoring Marco, who had spent two weeks trying to win her over. Then it escalated. Luna refused to nap unless Mia put her down, wouldn't take a bottle from anyone else, and would practically vibrate with joy the second Mia walked into the room.Dante noticed. He noticed everything that happened in his house, and he found himself keeping a private, annoyed tally of it all."She did it again," Enzo said during breakfast, watching Luna practically launch herself out of Marco's arms the moment Mia entered the kitchen. "The full-body wiggle. She only does that for Mia.""I

“I’ve basically mastered the spoon-feeding," Enzo announced Tuesday morning. He slid into his seat with the kind of confidence that only comes from practicing a line in the mirror for twenty minutes. "Watch. Perfect technique."He did not, in fact, have perfect technique. The first spoonful of food landed somewhere near Luna’s ear. The second actually made it into her mouth, but she promptly spat it back out with the kind of enthusiasm that suggested she had very strong opinions about pureed peas."She just needs to warm up to it," Enzo said, wiping a stray glob of green mush off his own cheek."She’s had peas for four days straight," Marco said, not even looking up from his coffee. "She’s not warming up. She hates peas. Everyone hates peas.""I like peas.""Nobody likes peas, Enzo. They’re a garnish at best—""That’s a pretty bold claim to make at breakfast."Mia watched them from the counter, sipping her coffee with a weary kind of patience. In less than three weeks, she’d already f

Mia wasn't trying to spy. She had just come back to the nursery to grab a spare blanket she’d left earlier, creeping through the dark hallway because she assumed Luna was long asleep and the house had finally quieted down.The nursery door was cracked open, casting a warm glow into the hall. She stopped in her tracks before she even hit the doorway.Someone was singing. It was low and rough—an old Italian lullaby. He sounded a bit rusty, like he was digging through memories from decades ago to remember the words, but the melody was gentle. It was a side of him Mia had never seen during the day.She knew she should just keep walking, but she didn't.Instead, she edged closer to the door. Dante was sitting in the armchair by the crib with Luna resting against his chest. His guard was completely down, replaced by a tenderness he probably wouldn't let anyone else in the house see.His voice cracked on a high note, but he didn't stop or try to fix it. He just kept going, his voice imperfec

The delivery guy, Josh, had been standing in the entryway for way too long. By Dante’s count, he’d finished dropping off the box of formula minutes ago, yet he was still there."So, you're the housekeeper," Josh said, leaning against the doorframe. He had that kind of easy confidence that only comes from someone who has no clue whose house he’s actually in—or what that man was capable of doing to him. "I've been doing this route for two years. Never seen you around.""I'm new," Mia replied, signing the clip without looking up."New is good. This place could use some fresh energy." Josh glanced past her into the house. "It's usually kind of... intense in here. Big, scary guys everywhere. You're a nice change of pace.""I'll take that as a compliment," she said."It was meant as one." Josh flashed a smile, the kind he probably used on every girl he met. "You free sometime? There's a coffee place two blocks from here that's actually great, if you ever get a break from—" he glanced around

It happened over something completely random, which, as Mia would later realize, was exactly why it hit so hard.She was in the middle of telling Enzo—with an intensity that suggested she was recounting a historical tragedy—about the time her cousin tried to bake a cake for their grandmother’s birthday. Between a total lack of confidence and a complete misunderstanding of how measurements work, the result was something that only qualified as a "cake" in the loosest possible sense of the word."It didn't even rise," Mia said, waving a dish towel around for emphasis. Across the kitchen, Dante was half-listening, mostly focused on reviewing the day's reports. "It just... sat there. Flat. Dense. My grandmother took one tiny bite, very politely, and said—and I’m quoting her here—'This has the structural integrity of a hockey puck, and I mean that as a compliment to hockey pucks, because at least those serve a purpose.’Enzo laughed. Marco, sitting in the corner, laughed even harder. Dante