Chapter 10 - THE NURSERY CONVERSATIONHigh above the harbor, in the secure penthouse suite overlooking the Boston skyline, three-year-old Mia sat curled up in a massive leather armchair that swallowed her whole. A plate of warm chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk sat on the low table before her, untouched.
Elena Hayes stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the distant lightning flash over the Atlantic. Her hands were no longer shaking. The terror that had gripped her heart for three long months had finally burned away, replaced by a quiet, fierce resolve.
The private elevator chime pinged softly.
The heavy oak door swung open, and Lorenzo stepped into the penthouse. He had removed his wet wool coat; his white dress shirt was open at the collar, his sleeves rolled up, revealing the deep, jagged scars of a life spent at the bleeding edge of power.
Mia looked up from her armchair, her big brown eyes locking onto the dangerous mafia don without a trace of fear. She slowly raised her right hand, holding up three tiny fingers.
Lorenzo stopped in his tracks. A rare, almost imperceptible softening touched the edges of his hardened mouth. He walked across the plush carpet, knelt down on one knee before the little girl, and gently folded her three tiny fingers down one by one into a soft fist.
"Three months is a long time to keep a secret, little one," Lorenzo murmured, his voice gentle—a tone no enemy of his syndicate had ever heard.
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Mia tilted her head, her dark curls bouncing. "The bad lady is gone?"
"The bad lady is gone," Lorenzo confirmed, looking up to meet Elena’s tear-filled eyes across the room. "And nobody will ever hurt you or your mother in this house again. Not while I’m breathing."
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