Chapter 3 - The Wolves at the Gates
Kieran’s entire demeanor transformed in a microsecond. The warm, protective man who had just spoken of honey and quiet songs vanished, replaced instantly by the ruthless predator who ruled New York's underworld.
"Explain," Kieran ordered, his voice chillingly level.
Marcus glanced at me nervously before meeting his boss’s eyes. "Dominic Moretti owns thirty percent of the holding company that finances Manhattan Children's public ward. The moment Vincenzo cleared Saraphina's debt using the Blackwood offshore account, Moretti's accountants flagged the surname. Moretti knows Saraphina works here. He's assuming she's your mistress, and he's assuming the boy is your leverage."
A cold, primal terror struck straight through my heart. My vision blurred. "No... no, Dominic Moretti? The man who controls the docks? He knows about Leo?"
"Calm down, Saraphina," Kieran commanded softly, though his jaw was set like stone.
"How can I calm down?!" I screamed, jumping up from the table. "You just painted a giant bullseye on my four-year-old child! Dominic Moretti butchers people for fun! If he thinks Leo means something to you, he'll kidnap him or pull the plug on his machines!"
Kieran didn't yell. Instead, he took two long strides, captured my face between his large hands, and forced me to look straight into his eyes. "Listen to me very carefully. Nobody touches what is mine. And nobody—not Dominic Moretti, not the entire Five Families, not God himself—will lay a finger on that little boy."
"He isn't yours!" I cried, trying to pull away, but his grip was unyielding yet tender.
"He is yours, which makes him under my protection," Kieran said with absolute conviction. "Marcus! Where is the transport right now?"
"The medical convoy just loaded Leo at Manhattan Children's. They're ten minutes out from Mount Sinai," Marcus answered swiftly.
"Reroute them," Kieran snapped.
Marcus blinked. "Reroute? To where, boss?"
"Bring the boy here."
"Here?!" Marcus and I gasped in unison.
"This estate is a fortified compound," Kieran said, turning to inspect the monitors embedded in the dining room wall. "It has three subterranean safe rooms, biometric security, twenty-four armed guards on rotation, and an independent power grid. Call Dr. Vance. Tell her to bring her pediatric ICU team and set up a sterile field in the west wing guest master. Leo stays under my direct visual supervision until Moretti is eliminated."
"Kieran, you can't bring a child into a mafia house!" I protested, grabbing his sleeve. "This place is full of guns, hitmen, and violence!"
"And out there, he is a pawn in a turf war," Kieran replied coldly. "Here, he is inside an impenetrable fortress. Make your choice, Saraphina. Do you want him in a public hospital with Moretti's men bribing orderlies, or do you want him behind bulletproof glass with forty men willing to die to protect him?"
The brutal logic of his words hit me like a slap. I swallowed hard, looking into Kieran’s unwavering gray eyes. I saw no hesitation, no doubt, and no cruelty directed at me. For the first time in my life, someone was standing between me and the monstrous wolves that had preyed on my vulnerability.
"Bring him here," I whispered.
Kieran nodded once to Marcus. "You heard her. Deploy two chase vehicles to escort the ambulance. If anyone tails them, do not ask questions. Put them in the ground."
"Understood, boss." Marcus turned on his heel and sprinted down the hall.
Thirty minutes later, the iron gates of the Blackwood estate groaned open. A specialized, unmarked intensive-care ambulance rolled up the cobblestone driveway, flanked by two black armored SUVs with tinted windows. My heart slammed against my ribs as I bolted toward the front steps, disregarding the autumn chill biting through my uniform.
The rear doors of the ambulance swung wide.
Inside, lying on a narrow gurney surrounded by humming IV pumps and heart monitors, was my baby. Leo looked so tiny, his pale skin translucent under the harsh LED lights, wearing a little knitted dinosaur cap to cover his bald head. He held a worn, one-eared teddy bear against his chest.
"Mommy?" his tiny, hoarse voice called out weakly.
"I'm here, baby! Mommy's right here!" I threw my arms around his small frame, burying my face into his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of baby soap and antiseptic.
Behind me, the heavy thud of leather shoes approached. I looked up through my tears. Kieran Blackwood stood at the edge of the ambulance, looking down at my son. For a man who had orchestrated wars and executions, his eyes softened into an expression of sheer reverence.
Leo turned his large brown eyes toward Kieran, staring curiously at the tall, intimidating giant in the tailored suit.
"Are you the giant from Mommy's fairy tales?" Leo asked innocently, his voice trembling with fatigue.
May you like
Kieran slowly knelt down until he was at eye level with the gurney. He extended one massive finger, allowing Leo's tiny, fragile hand to wrap around it.
"I'm the guardian, little warrior," Kieran said in a voice so warm I barely recognized it. "And nobody is ever going to hurt you again."
