Chapter 3 - the lost prescription
By midnight, a fleet of black armored SUVs pulled through the high iron security gates of the Moretti estate on Lake Shore Drive.
The grand limestone mansion stood majestically against the dark Chicago sky, its high arched windows casting warm golden light over the manicured lawns.
Dominic led Clara up the grand marble staircase to the master nursery wing on the second floor. The nursery was a vast, elegant suite decorated in cream and gold, featuring a plush crib, velvet sofas, and a private medical station.
Clara set Baby Leo gently into his crib, tucking the soft white blanket around his shoulders. The baby slept deeply, his breathing smooth and quiet for the first time in hours.
Dominic stood near the nursery doorway, having removed his suit jacket. He wore his black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled slightly over his tattooed forearms, a glass of dark scotch in his broad hand.
"He hasn't slept for more than twenty minutes at a time since his mother died three weeks ago," Dominic admitted softly, his voice rough with suppressed grief.
Clara looked up from the crib, her brown eyes filled with gentle empathy. "Infants absorb the stress and grief of the people around them, Dominic. And whoever gave him that vial was deliberately trying to keep him sick."
Dominic set his glass down on the side table, stepping closer to the crib. He looked down at his son, then at Clara.
"My private doctor, Dr. Miller, will be here in twenty minutes to analyze the chemical residue in that vial," Dominic said, his deep voice carrying a solid, protective weight. "Starting tonight, your salary is ten thousand dollars a month. You will have full authority over Leo's diet, care, and nursery access."
Clara looked into his intense dark eyes, feeling a strange sense of safety despite standing inside the home of Chicago's most feared Mafia boss.
"I don't care about the money, Dominic," Clara murmured gently. "I just want to make sure this baby is safe."
Dominic reached out, his broad, calloused hand briefly touching Clara's shoulder with a warmth that surprised them both. "Under this roof, Clara... you and Leo are untouchable."
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Suddenly, Dante knocked on the nursery door, holding a heavy iron key stamped with a peculiar crest. "Boss... we searched Bruno's locker in the guardhouse. We found this key inside his tactical bag."
Clara looked at the brass key, her fair face going deathly pale. "That crest... it belongs to St. Jude's Pediatric Research Hospital in Boston. That's the clinic where my son died two years ago."
