Chapter 2 - The Heavy Vacuum
The moment his gravelly voice echoed off the wood-paneled walls, Mia whipped around in sheer terror.
Her wide brown eyes locked onto the towering silhouette of Mr. Duca. Instinct took over instantly—she shifted her small body, placing herself directly between the intimidating billionaire and her sleeping baby sister. Her tiny fingers gripped the damp cleaning cloth so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Gasping for air, Mia desperately grabbed the heavy metal handle of the industrial vacuum with both hands. She leaned her entire body weight forward, her small shoes slipping against the polished hardwood as she tried to push the massive machine out of his way.
The vacuum barely moved an inch.
Mr. Duca watched her tiny arms strain, his broad chest rising and falling as he stood motionless in the warm light. The anger and exhaustion that usually hardened his rugged features completely melted away, replaced by a profound, disbelieving quiet. He watched a six-year-old child carrying an infant on her back, trying to perform the grueling physical labor of a grown adult in the middle of the night.
Mia’s breath came in ragged gasps. Realizing the machine was far too heavy, she abandoned the handle and straightened her tiny shoulders. Tears welled in her wide eyes, but she bit her lower lip, desperately fighting them back. She reached back with one hand, gently touching Lily’s soft yellow dress to ensure her sister was still securely strapped and asleep against her back.
Mr. Duca took another slow step toward her. His dark eyes softened, his frustration directed entirely at the situation rather than the terrified child standing before him.
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Mia lowered her head, clutching the damp cleaning cloth against her chest like a shield.
"Please don’t fire Mama. She’s sick," Mia whispered, her voice shaky, pleading, and full of raw heartbreak.
