The baby had been screaming for eighty-seven minutes when Clare Jensen realized everyone in first class was solving the wrong problem.

The Salvatore estate sat on a private peninsula in Star Island, surrounded by high white walls, wrought-iron security gates, and the dark, tranquil waters of Biscayne Bay.

As the SUV pulled through the gates, Clare stared out the window in disbelief. Tall palm trees lined the driveway, leading to a sprawling Mediterranean-style mansion illuminated by soft golden lights.

“Is this... where you live?” Clare asked softly.

“It’s where my son is safe,” Dante replied, checking on Leo, who was fast asleep in his car seat. “And for as long as you need, it’s where you and Maya will be safe, too.”

An elderly woman in a neat apron met them at the grand front entrance. Her face was lined with age, but her eyes were bright and warm.

“Mr. Dante!” she exclaimed, reaching for the baby carrier. “How was the flight? Did little Leo—” She stopped, noticing Leo sleeping peacefully. She looked up at Clare and Maya in astonishment. “Mercy... he isn’t crying.”

“Maria, this is Clare Jensen and her daughter, Maya,” Dante introduced. “Clare is a pediatric nurse. She saved Leo’s life on the plane tonight.”

Maria’s eyes filled with tears as she looked at Clare. “God bless you, child. We haven’t had a peaceful night in this house since... since poor Mrs. Julia passed.”

Clare felt a twinge of sympathy. Julia—the mother Leo had never really known.

Maria showed Clare and Maya to the guest wing. It was larger than any apartment Clare had ever rented. The master bedroom featured a king-sized bed with plush white linens, a private terrace overlooking the bay, and an adjoining nursery equipped with a wooden crib, toys, and soft plush blankets.

After bathing Maya and tucking her into bed with her plastic-eyed rabbit, Clare walked softly into the nursery. She found Dante standing by the French doors, staring out at the moonlight reflecting off the ocean. He had shed his suit jacket and unbuttoned his collar, revealing the dark ink of a eagle tattoo stretching up his neck.

“She’s fast asleep,” Clare said quietly.

Dante turned. “Thank you. For everything you did up there.”

“I just did what any nurse—what any mother—would do,” Clare said, stepping closer to the crib where Leo lay breathing rhythmically. “He’s a strong little boy, Dante. He was just terrified and overstimulated.”

Dante looked down at his son. “When Julia died during childbirth... the doctors told me I had to be strong. But every time Leo cried, I felt helpless. I run shipping lines, security fleets, and hundreds of men across three continents... but I couldn’t make my own son stop screaming.”

“Parenting isn’t a logistics problem,” Clare said gently, placing a hand on his forearm without thinking. “You can’t manage a baby’s grief with authority. You just have to be there to hold them through it.”

Dante looked down at her hand on his arm. His dark eyes met hers, intense and searching. Clare suddenly realized how close they were standing. She felt a shock of warmth travel through her chest, making her breath hitch.

She quickly pulled her hand back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t apologize,” Dante said, his voice dropping into a deep, husky register. “I haven’t felt human in six months, Clare. Tonight... you brought light back into this house.”

Before Clare could answer, a soft knock sounded at the nursery door. Harrison Vance, the attorney, stepped inside holding a leather folder.

“Excuse me, Dante,” Harrison said, glancing at Clare. “We have an update on Richard Jensen.”

Clare’s blood ran cold. “Is he out?”

“He posted bail twenty minutes ago,” Harrison revealed grimly. “His family’s real estate firm pulled strings with a local judge. He’s out on bond, and his lawyer has already filed an emergency petition in Miami-Dade court claiming you used an unregistered private escort service to flee the state.”

Clare sank into a rocking chair, covering her face with her hands. “He’ll never stop. He will spend his last dollar to tear Maya away from me just to prove he controls us.”

Dante walked over to Harrison, snatched the legal documents, and scanned them. A cold, dangerous stillness settled over him.

“Harrison,” Dante said, his voice deadly calm. “Call Judge Miller. Tell him I want a full custody hearing scheduled for Monday morning.”

“Dante, you aren’t a party to her custody case—”

“She is the full-time head nurse and private caretaker of my son,” Dante declared, turning to look at Clare with absolute conviction. “She resides at my estate under an official employment contract with a signed retainer. And if Richard Jensen wants to touch her, he’ll have to go through the entire legal and security apparatus of Salvatore Global.”

Clare looked up at him through her tears. “Dante... why are you risking so much for us?”