Chapter 6 - The Confession in the Dark
Tommy scrambled across the floor, bypassing his father entirely, and threw his small arms around Serena’s waist, burying his face into her damp sweater and sobbing uncontrollably.
Serena dropped the heavy pan, sinking to her knees on the rug to wrap her arms tightly around the trembling boy. “I’ve got you, Tommy. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
Victor stared down at the unconscious assassin, then up at Serena, his jaw slightly slack. The cold, ruthless syndicate boss looked utterly shell-shocked. He holstered his weapon slowly, walking over to kneel beside them.
“Are you hurt?” Victor asked, his voice uncharacteristically gentle as he placed a heavy, warm hand on Tommy’s back.
“No,” Tommy whimpered, looking up at Serena through tear-filled eyes. “He… he said bad men were coming to take Daddy away.”
Victor’s face hardened into stone. He looked up at one of his hovering security guards who had finally arrived, breathless and weapon drawn, panting in the doorway.
“Clean this trash up,” Victor ordered coldly, gesturing to the unconscious man on the floor. “Interrogate him. Find out who sent him from the Marcone family. If they think they can touch my children while I’m distracted, I’m going to burn their entire operation to the ground by sunrise.”
Twenty minutes later, the boys were tucked safely into a secure panic room built into the master suite, fast asleep under heavy sedation and the comforting presence of Serena sitting right beside their mattress.
Victor stood in the doorway of the panic room, watching Serena stroke Alessandro’s curly hair until his breathing slowed. When she quietly stood up and slipped out into the hallway, Victor was waiting there in the shadows.
“You saved his life,” Victor said quietly.
“I protected my kid,” Serena corrected, her voice firm, though her hands were still slightly shaking from the adrenaline crash. “That’s what mothers do, Victor. Even temporary ones.”
Victor stepped closer, the dim wall sconces casting warm light across his sharp jawline. “You’re not temporary anymore, Serena. Not after tonight. Name your price. Whatever you need to pay off your debts, whatever it takes to win your custody battle for Lucia—I’ll write the check right now. Ten thousand? A hundred thousand? Done.”
Serena stopped dead in her tracks. She looked up at the billionaire mafia boss, feeling a sudden surge of pride that cut through her exhaustion like a knife.
“I don’t want your dirty syndicate money, Victor,” Serena said, her voice laced with cold dignity. “I want to earn every single cent. I want a legitimate contract, a fair salary, and your absolute promise that you will let me do my job without your goons interfering.”
Victor stared at her, utterly disarmed. No one ever talked to him about dignity—least of all people who worked for him. A slow, deeply respectful smile spread across his face.
“Deal,” Victor whispered, stepping so close Serena could feel the heat radiating off his chest. “But tomorrow, we have an even bigger battle.”
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“What battle?” Serena asked, narrowing her eyes.
“The annual Rinaldi family gala,” Victor said grimly. “Where my enemies, the tabloids, and my mother-in-law will all be watching to see if my new nanny can survive high society.”
