0mg The mafia boss’s little boy hit every nanny who came near him.

The next morning, the sky was a beautiful, clear blue, the sun melting the last of the snow from the terraces of 111 Murray Street.

Cameron was in the kitchen, helping Leo eat his oatmeal, when Matteo walked in. He was wearing his full, three-piece charcoal suit, but he wasn't carrying his leather briefcase.

"Get your coat, Leo," Matteo said, looking down at his son.

Leo looked up, his spoon hovering near his mouth. "Coat?"

"We’re going out," Matteo said, his eyes shifting to Cameron. "All of us. To the park."

Cameron stared at him, her heart skipping a beat. "You're kidding."

"I don't kid, Cameron," Matteo said, a faint, almost invisible trace of a smile touching his lips. "You said he needs to see the sun. Marcus has secured a private section of the botanical gardens in Brooklyn. No press. No crowds. Just us."

Ten minutes later, we were in the back of the massive, armored Duca SUV, cutting through the morning traffic of Manhattan toward the bridge.

Leo was pressed against the window, his big eyes wide as he watched the cars, the buses, and the massive steel cables of the Brooklyn Bridge fly past. He was babbling happily, pointing at everything with his small, sticky fingers, his previous anger completely forgotten in the face of the massive, wonderful world outside.

The botanical gardens were beautiful.

The cherry blossoms were just starting to bud, and the air was filled with the fresh, clean scent of damp earth and spring flowers. Two of Matteo's bodyguards walked fifty paces ahead of us, and two more walked fifty paces behind, but for the first time, they felt like background noise instead of guards.

Leo ran.

He ran through the grass, his small boots kicking up loose soil, his laughter echoing through the empty pathways. He fell down twice, but he didn't cry. He just scrambled back up, his hands covered in dirt, and kept going until he collapsed into a pile of dry leaves near a massive oak tree.

"Look, Cameron!" he screamed, holding up a dry, brown leaf as if it were a gold coin. "A leaf!"

"It's beautiful, Leo," Cameron said, sitting down on the grass beside him, her heart feeling fuller than it had in years.

Matteo stood a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, his dark eyes watching his son with a soft, quiet intensity. He had taken off his sunglasses, and the warm sunlight caught the sharp lines of his face, making him look less like the King of Tribeca and more like a father who was finally learning how to breathe.

He walked over and sat down on the grass beside Cameron, his long legs stretched out in front of him, entirely unconcerned about the dirt staining his thousand-dollar trousers.

"He looks happy," Matteo said softly.

"He is happy," Cameron said, looking at him. "And so are you, if you’d just admit it."

Matteo let out a short, quiet laugh. "You are a very dangerous woman, Cameron Jenkins. You make me do things that make my security detail go grey."

"Good," she said, her smile warm as she turned to watch Leo chase a squirrel. "They look like they could use some excitement anyway."