Chapter 5 - The Snake in the Grass
For the next four days, the Blackwood estate became an oasis of hope in the middle of a war zone. Dr. Vance reported that Leo’s blood markers were already responding to the new antibody therapy. The fever that had plagued him for weeks finally broke. Leo spent his afternoons drawing pictures of dinosaurs with Kieran, who miraculously found hours to sit in the bedroom floor despite running a multi-million-dollar criminal syndicate.
I watched them together from the doorway, my heart swelling with emotions I was terrified to name. Kieran Blackwood was supposed to be a monster. But watching him let a four-year-old stick sparkly stickers onto his five-thousand-dollar Rolex dismantled every defense I had ever built.
One evening, while Leo was taking a nap, Kieran called me into his private study.
The room was lined with floor-to-ceiling oak bookshelves, smelling of aged paper, leather, and fine scotch. Kieran stood behind his massive desk, his face grim as he studied a series of surveillance photographs spread across the blotter.
"Is something wrong?" I asked, a pit opening in my stomach.
"Dominic Moretti has made his move," Kieran said, gesturing for me to approach.
I walked over and looked down at the photos. They showed several black sedans parked outside Manhattan Children's Hospital, followed by images of men in heavy coats breaking into the medical archives.
"Moretti sent his scavengers to dig up everything they could find on you," Kieran explained, tapping one photograph. "He knows Leo was being treated there. He knows you're my housekeeper. But what he didn't expect was this."
Kieran pulled a second document from a drawer. It was an official police report from five years ago. My blood ran cold when I saw the name printed at the top: Julian Vance Moretti.
"Julian?" I whispered, my voice trembling. "What does Julian have to do with Dominic?"
"Julian Vance was Dominic Moretti's estranged younger brother," Kieran revealed, his voice dropping into a deadly register. "The man who abandoned you and Leo wasn't an ordinary deadbeat, Saraphina. He was a Moretti who stole three million dollars from Dominic's payroll before fleeing south."
I gripped the edge of the desk to keep from falling. "Julian was a Moretti?! He told me he was an accountant! He had a normal job!"
"He lied to you to hide from his brother's hitmen," Kieran said, coming around the desk and placing his hands firmly on my shoulders. "Julian died in a high-speed chase in Miami two years ago. Dominic never knew Julian had a child. But now, because of the hospital records, Dominic realizes that Leo is his blood nephew. The only living heir to the Moretti family line."
The air was sucked from my lungs. "He... he wants Leo? Not as leverage against you, but to take him?!"
"Dominic has no children of his own," Kieran stated coldly. "His syndicate's traditional bylaws state that bloodline heirs inherit the family trust. Dominic doesn't care about Leo's health; he cares about securing his dynasty. If he takes Leo, he'll lock him away in a compound, use his legal status to seize Julian's hidden offshore accounts, and dispose of you the second you cause a problem."
"No!" I shrieked, clutching Kieran’s lapels in absolute hysteria. "They can't take him! He's sick! He needs his medicine! Kieran, please, kill me if you have to, but don't let them take my baby!"
"Look at me!" Kieran commanded, gripping my chin and lifting my face until our eyes locked. "Nobody is taking him. Do you hear me? You are in my house. You are under my blood oath. I would burn this entire city to ash before I let Dominic Moretti lay a hand on Leo."
His intensity was intoxicating, terrifying, and deeply comforting all at once. Before I could stop myself, I leaned forward, burying my face into his chest, clutching his shirt as if he were the only solid thing in a world that was falling apart.
Kieran’s arms wrapped around me instantly, locking me against his powerful frame with a ferocity that stole my breath. He rested his chin on the crown of my head, his heartbeat steady and thunderous against my cheek.
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"I've got you, Saraphina," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I've got you both."
That night, at precisely 2:45 A.M., the perimeter alarms of the estate screamed to life.
