Chapter 3
Resting her soft, rosy cheek against the lapel of Lorenzo’s black luxury suit, Sofie let out a long, contented sigh. She closed her large blue eyes, snuggling closer into the warm, secure embrace of the man whom the entire city feared.
CLOSE SHOT on Lorenzo's face.
The ruthless Mafia boss, who had ordered empires destroyed and rivals silenced, closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, breathing in the innocent scent of baby shampoo and fresh lavender. When he opened his eyes, the cold, icy blue glance that usually struck terror into men was completely gone, replaced by a rare, breathtakingly genuine smile that transformed his sharp features.
Around the grand hall, the four muscular security guards watched in complete, unblinking disbelief. They stood like statues, their mouths slightly agape as they witnessed the legendary Lorenzo Duca kneeling on a marble floor, holding a maid’s daughter like a precious treasure.
Clara dropped to her knees beside them, her hands resting in her lap, overwhelmed with a swirling vortex of relief, gratitude, and deep emotional catharsis.
Sofie pulled her head back slightly, her small hand reaching out to gently touch Lorenzo's stubbled cheek with her tiny, soft fingers. She looked straight into his piercing blue eyes with pure, innocent affection.
"See?" Sofie whispered, her sweet voice bubbling with a happy, musical giggle. "You don't look scary anymore."
Lorenzo let out a low, quiet chuckle—a warm, deep sound that had not echoed through the halls of the Duca estate in four long years. "Is that so, little angel?" he murmured gently, adjusting his grip so she rested comfortably on his knee.
Suddenly, as Sofie shifted her position to hug him again, the worn cream-colored stuffed rabbit slipped from her small arm.
The rabbit fell onto the polished marble floor with a soft thud. As it struck the hard surface, a tiny tear near the seam of the rabbit's belly opened slightly. A small silver object tumbled out from inside the stuffed animal's cotton padding, striking the marble floor with a sharp, distinct metallic CLINK that echoed loudly off the high columns.
Lorenzo’s eyes immediately flicked downward to the floor.
Lying on the gleaming white marble was a heavy, antique silver pendant attached to a broken silver chain. The sunlight caught the polished metal, illuminating an intricately engraved family crest—a rising phoenix wrapped around an ornate shield, bordered by microscopic Italian lettering.
EXTREME CLOSE-UP on the silver pendant in Lorenzo's calloused palm as he reached down and picked it up.
Lorenzo’s warm, gentle smile instantly vanished.
His eyes widened in absolute, paralyzing shock. The color drained from his sharp, handsome features, leaving his fair skin ghostly pale. The silver wristwatch on his wrist glinted as his fingers trembled slightly while tracing the engraved crest. He recognized the symbol instantly; it was a custom piece, handcrafted in Naples, an heirloom that had vanished four years ago.
Clara’s face turned completely white. She let out a sharp, terrified gasp, her hands flying to her throat as she realized what had just dropped from her daughter's toy.
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Lorenzo slowly raised his head, his blue eyes hardening into an expression of deep, stunned, and dangerously serious intensity as he locked his gaze onto Clara.
"Clara..." Lorenzo demanded, his deep voice dropping into a raspy, shaking rumble. "...where did she get this?"
