Chapter 1 - The Threshold of Blood
The heavy mahogany doors of the study seemed to swallow the sound of the storm raging outside. Alessio leaned closer to Fiona, the scent of rain and damp wool hanging between them. His eyes, the color of cold river stones, bored into her.
"I am not interested in someone who tries to be clever," Alessio said, his voice dropping an octave, carrying the lethal weight of an unspoken warning. "I am interested in someone who keeps my son alive. If you fail, you will not simply be fired. You will be escorted off this property before you have time to blink."
Fiona did not blink. Her brown eyes met his with a quiet, unyielding defiance that stunned even Dominic.
"I didn't come here to entertain you, Mr. Romano," Fiona replied steadily. "I came to care for an infant. If you want a nervous wreck who will drop bottles and panic at every cough, you should hire someone else. If you want someone who knows what to do when things go wrong, let me up the stairs."
Alessio’s jaw tightened. For a heartbeat, his hand drifted toward the custom holster concealed beneath his vest—a reflex born of a life lived in the crosshairs of betrayal. But then, from somewhere up the grand staircase, a faint, high-pitched whimper cut through the silence.
It was Leo.
Alessio turned sharply, his protective instincts overriding his suspicion. "Follow me. Do not touch anything in the nursery without asking."
The nursery was a fortress of soft blues and high-tech security monitors. An oxygen monitor blinked a steady green beside the mahogany crib. Fiona walked past Alessio without waiting for permission, her footsteps silent on the thick carpet. She knelt beside the crib, her expression shifting instantly from defensive pride to a profound, gentle focus.
She lifted three-month-old Leo into her arms, her hands moving with practiced, effortless grace. The baby settled against her shoulder, his tiny breaths fluttering against her collarbone.
Alessio watched from the doorway, his muscles coiled like springs. "He has a congenital airway restriction," Alessio muttered, as if admitting it were a weakness. "The pediatric specialists said he could suffer sudden respiratory occlusion if he feeds too fast."
"I know," Fiona said softly, walking the room with a rhythmic, soothing sway. "His file was sent to the agency. I've handled airway cases before."
"Whose family?" Alessio asked suspiciously. "Your background check mentioned Seattle. It didn't mention details."
Fiona stopped pacing, her back to him. Her shoulders stiffened just a fraction. "A private family. They moved to Europe. That's all you need to know."
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Alessio didn't like omissions. In his world, omissions were bullet holes waiting to find a target. But as he watched Leo’s chest rise and fall in a steady, relaxed rhythm against Fiona’s shoulder, the harsh verdict died in his throat.
"Stay," Alessio said coldly. "For now."
