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THE MAFIA BOSS THOUGHT HE BROKE MY HEART—UNTIL HE DISCOVERED THE TWIN HEIRS I HID IN THE SHADOWS / Chapter 2 / 20

Chapter 2 - Shadows at the Door

"You always were a terrible liar, Lena," Dante said, stepping out from the dim shadows of the hallway. He looked stripped of his usual invincible majesty—his dark designer suit was rumpled, the top buttons of his shirt undone, and dark circles bruised the skin beneath his sharp, obsidian eyes. The terrifying titan of Chicago’s underworld looked hollowed out, but the raw power radiating from him still pinned me to the floor.

My heart slammed against my ribs as I backed against the wooden doorframe. "Get out of my house, Dante. You have no power here." He didn't move toward me; instead, his gaze dropped to the white envelope sticking out of my coat pocket—the medical file stamped with the local clinic’s logo. In one swift, fluid movement, he intercepted my hand as I tried to shield it, slipping the paper from my grasp.

I watched his face transform from cold composure to absolute, shatterproof shock as his eyes swept over the medical summary. Gestation: 10 weeks. Fetal count: 2. The paper trembled in his hand—a hand that had signed execution orders without a single twitch. He looked up at me, his voice stripped of all mafia authority, cracking under the weight of sudden realization. "Twins? You ran from me carrying my children?"

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"Lock every gate, seal every exit, and cut the main grid to manual," I barked, my voice cutting through the heavy air of the ballroom like a razor.

"Lock every gate, seal every exit, and cut the main grid to manual," I b...

The silence in the ICU room was heavier than the lead aprons I wore in radiology. Dante’s words hung in the sterile air like poison: I had people watching you.

The silence in the ICU room was heavier than the lead aprons I wore in r...

The silence in the room was heavier than the snow piling against the windowpane. Declan sat motionless in the chair, his green eyes fixated on me as if I were a stranger who had spoken in a language he couldn't comprehend. Outside, the Seattle storm howled, but inside, the only sound was the soft, rhythmic breathing of our six-day-old son against my chest.

The silence in the room was heavier than the snow piling against the win...

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