Chapter 4 - The Truth About Leo’s Mother
Midnight arrived with a howling rainstorm that slammed heavy drops against the high arched windows of Moretti Manor.
Inside the nursery, Leo was sleeping soundly in his walnut crib, his tiny chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm. Sarah stroked his soft hair one last time before quietly stepping out into the dimly lit hallway.
She saw a faint sliver of warm light spilling from beneath the double doors of Julian’s private library at the end of the corridor.
Curiosity—and a strange, pulling instinct she couldn't quite name—led her down the hall.
She pushed the door open quietly.
The library was two stories tall, lined with thousands of leather-bound books, a grand stone fireplace crackling softly in the corner. Julian sat in a deep wingback leather chair near the fire, holding a crystal glass half-filled with amber scotch.
He wasn't reading. He was staring into the flames, his expression hollowed out by a deep, dark shadow of grief and anger.
"He’s fast asleep," Sarah said softly from the doorway.
Julian didn't jump. He simply took a slow sip of his drink. "You should be sleeping, Sarah. Friday is twenty-four hours away."
Sarah walked into the room, stopping near the edge of the fireplace hearth. "I couldn't sleep. And neither can you."
She looked at the small silver picture frame sitting on the side table beside his elbow. It was the only photograph in the entire room—a picture of a beautiful, sharp-featured woman with blonde hair and striking green eyes.
Julian noticed her gaze. He picked up the glass, swirling the ice gently.
"Isabella," Julian said flatly. "Leo’s mother."
Sarah looked down at him gently. "She isn't here."
"No," Julian said, his voice dropping into a raspy whisper. "She left three weeks after Leo was born."
Sarah’s breath caught. "She left her baby?"
Julian looked up at Sarah, his dark eyes ablaze with an old, painful burn. "Isabella wasn't my wife out of love, Sarah. It was an alliance negotiated by my late father and the Vane family four years ago. She was Thomas Vane’s younger sister."
The piece clicked into place so hard Sarah felt it in her teeth. "A plant."
"A spy," Julian corrected grimly. "She spent three years in this house gathering intelligence on my shipping routes, my bank accounts, my men. When she got pregnant, I thought... I foolishly believed it would change things. I thought having a child would make her see us as a family."
He set his glass down on the table with a hard CLACK.
"The night Leo was born," Julian continued, his jaw working violently, "she unlocked the east gate and handed Vane’s men the encrypted keys to my entire financial network. When I confronted her, she looked at me with pure disgust. She told me she never loved me, and that Leo was nothing more than an unfortunate mistake."
Sarah felt a cold wave of horror wash over her. "Oh, God, Julian..."
"She fled the estate that night in a rainstorm just like this one," Julian said softly. "Her driver lost control on the interstate at ninety miles per hour. She died instantly."
He turned his face back to the fire, his hands gripping the arms of the leather chair until his knuckles turned white.
"That is why Leo was crying, Sarah," Julian confessed, his voice breaking with a raw vulnerability that tore through Sarah’s heart. "Every time I held him, every time he looked up at me, I was terrified he would grow up and realize his mother hated him. I was terrified my hands—hands that have done terrible things—would corrupt him."
Sarah didn't think. She didn't pause to weigh the boundaries between a boss and an employee, a Don and a maid.
She dropped to her knees right beside his chair.
She reached up, her hands cupping his strong, stubble-rough jaw, forcing him to look away from the fire and down into her eyes.
"Listen to me, Julian Moretti," Sarah said, her voice fiercely intense, echoing through the quiet library. "Leo does not look at you and see a mob boss. He looks at you and sees his father. He cries because he needs you! He sleeps on your chest because your heart is the safest place in the world to him!"
Julian stared down at her, his breathing heavy, his dark eyes searching her face with desperate intensity. "Sarah..."
"You are not your past," Sarah whispered, her thumbs gently brushing across his cheekbones. "And you are going to be an incredible father."
Julian’s hand moved instantly, his large fingers catching her wrist, holding her soft hands against his face.
The air between them ignited.
The distance closed in a heartbeat. Julian leaned down, his mouth covering hers in a fierce, desperate, intoxicating kiss.
Sarah gasped against his lips, but she didn't pull back. She opened to him, her hands sliding up into his thick dark hair as he pulled her up off her knees and into his lap.
The kiss was hot, consuming, and laced with months of unspoken tension. Julian’s arms wrapped around her waist like iron bands, holding her against his broad chest as if she were the only real thing in a world made of shadows.
When he finally pulled back, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting together in the dim firelight.
"Sarah," Julian rasped, his voice thick with undeniable passion. "If I take you, I don't let you go."
Sarah looked into his eyes, feeling the fierce, steady thrum of his heart against her ribs. She was a broke single mother, and he was the king of the Chicago underworld.
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And yet, in his arms, she felt more powerful than she ever had in her life.
"Get me through Friday, Julian," Sarah whispered, her fingers resting against his lips. "And then ask me again."
