Chapter 3 - The Rules of the Rossi Estate
By the time Maya reached the second-floor landing, every instinct she had developed around dangerous people told her to turn around.
The hallway felt wrong.
Not merely quiet.
Abandoned.
There should have been a guard stationed outside the nursery.
There always was.
Maya had seen him from downstairs many times.
Tonight the chair beside the door stood empty.
"Hello?"
No response.
She looked behind her.
The main staircase disappeared into darkness.
Maya considered calling security.
Her phone was locked inside the employee room downstairs, as required during overnight shifts.
A small wall intercom stood near the nursery entrance.
She pressed the button.
Nothing happened.
The screen remained black.
She pressed again.
Still nothing.
Then Leo cried.
Maya forgot everything else.
She opened the door.
Warm light spilled across the nursery.
The room was enormous.
Larger than Maya's entire apartment.
A white crib stood near the center beneath a delicate canopy.
Stuffed animals lined built-in shelves.
An antique rocking chair sat beside the window.
Medical equipment looked painfully out of place among the expensive nursery furniture.
Nurse Evelyn slept beside the crib.
At least Maya thought she was sleeping.
Her head had fallen to one side.
One hand hung beside the chair.
On a nearby table rested a wineglass.
"Ms. Harper?"
Nothing.
Maya approached.
"Ms. Harper?"
Evelyn breathed deeply.
Maya smelled alcohol.
She frowned.
Then Leo moved inside the crib.
The sight of him broke something inside her.
She had expected a sick baby.
She hadn't expected him to look so small.
His cheeks were hollow.
His skin pale.
His little fists moved weakly near his face.
Maya gripped the crib rail.
"Oh, baby."
Leo's eyes opened.
Dark eyes.
Like his father's.
He made a tiny sound.
Maya looked toward Evelyn.
"Wake up."
She touched the nurse's shoulder.
No response.
"Ms. Harper?"
Evelyn mumbled something unintelligible.
Maya should have left.
She should have called someone.
Instead, Leo began crying again.
Maya's hands moved before her mind made a decision.
She lifted him.
He weighed almost nothing.
The sensation of a baby settling against her body stole her breath.
For a split second, Maya wasn't standing in the Rossi nursery.
She was in a hospital bed.
Someone was telling her how sorry they were.
She was asking to hold Lily.
She was counting tiny fingers that would never curl around hers.
Maya squeezed her eyes shut.
"This isn't her," she whispered to herself.
Leo turned his face toward her.
He rooted instinctively.
Maya froze.
"No."
He searched again.
Her chest ached.
Not emotionally this time.
Physically.
Her body understood before she did.
Maya began crying.
"Please don't."
Leo whimpered.
That sound decided everything.
What followed wasn't planned.
It wasn't rational.
It wasn't something Maya could have explained to Lorenzo Rossi if he had walked in five seconds earlier.
She only knew that a starving child was in her arms and she had something he needed.
Maya sat in the rocking chair.
She adjusted the blanket for privacy.
Her hands shook so badly she nearly stopped.
Then Leo latched.
And swallowed.
Maya gasped.
Not because of pain.
Because she had forgotten what hope sounded like.
One swallow.
Then another.
Then another.
The medical monitor changed.
His pulse steadied.
His body relaxed.
Maya bowed her head.
Tears fell silently onto the blanket.
"You're hungry," she whispered.
The doctors said he wouldn't eat.
The staff said he rejected everything.
Yet he was hungry.
Desperately hungry.
Behind Maya, the nursery door opened.
She didn't hear it immediately.
She heard a man's inhale.
Sharp.
Controlled.
Maya looked up.
Lorenzo Rossi stood in the doorway.
He wore a black shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows.
No jacket.
No tie.
His dark hair looked as if he'd been running his hands through it.
He didn't look like the immaculate man Maya saw crossing the mansion during business meetings.
He looked exhausted.
Then his gaze moved to Leo.
To Maya.
To the way she was holding his son.
Whatever exhaustion had softened his face disappeared.
"Who are you?"
Maya's heart stopped.
"Mr. Rossi—"
He moved fast.
His hand disappeared beneath his shirt.
When it emerged, he held a gun.
Maya tightened her grip around Leo.
"Please."
"Put my son down."
"He's eating."
"I can see that."
Lorenzo stepped closer.
"What did you do to him?"
"Nothing."
"Who gave you permission to enter this room?"
"No one."
"Then why are you here?"
"He was crying."
"Put him down."
Maya looked at the crib.
Moving Leo now might make him stop.
She couldn't do it.
"No."
The word left her quietly.
Lorenzo's eyes narrowed.
"What did you say?"
"I said no."
Anyone else in the mansion probably would have regretted those words.
Maya couldn't find enough fear inside herself.
She had already survived the moment she thought would kill her.
Losing Lily.
Everything after that felt strangely smaller.
Even Lorenzo Rossi holding a gun.
"He's eating," Maya repeated. "He hasn't been eating, has he?"
"You have five seconds."
"Look at him."
"Four."
"Mr. Rossi—"
"Three."
Leo swallowed.
Lorenzo stopped counting.
His gaze moved toward his son.
Maya saw it happen.
The instant recognition.
The impossible sound.
The thing he had been waiting weeks to hear.
His gun lowered slightly.
"When?"
"What?"
"When did he start?"
"Less than a minute ago."
"How?"
Maya hesitated.
Then answered.
Lorenzo stared at her.
Something like grief crossed his face.
"My wife wanted to breastfeed him."
Maya said nothing.
Lorenzo looked away.
"She died before she could."
There it was.
The wound beneath the anger.
Two grieving parents standing in the same room.
One had lost a daughter.
The other had lost a wife and was slowly watching his son follow her.
Maya looked toward Leo.
"He isn't rejecting food."
"You don't know that."
"He took this immediately."
"Maybe because he's starving."
"Exactly."
The word hung between them.
Lorenzo's eyes sharpened.
Maya gestured toward the tray.
"Why is that bottle full?"
He followed her gaze.
"His feeding?"
"I assume."
Lorenzo approached it.
Maya could practically see his mind working.
He glanced toward Evelyn.
"Why is she asleep?"
"I don't know."
Lorenzo touched the nurse's shoulder.
No response.
He smelled the wine.
His expression darkened.
"I don't allow this."
"Maybe she brought it herself."
"No."
The certainty in his voice frightened Maya.
"How can you know?"
"Because every item entering this wing is checked."
Maya looked toward the glass.
"Then someone allowed it."
Lorenzo turned toward her.
The room suddenly felt colder.
Maya knew she had crossed a line.
Not by feeding Leo.
By giving voice to an idea Lorenzo had not considered.
Someone inside his secure home might be responsible.
A person close enough to control his son's meals.
Trusted enough to bypass security.
Lorenzo picked up the feeding bottle.
A faint cloudy residue clung near the bottom.
He frowned.
"Was this already here?"
"Yes."
He reached for the intercom.
Dead.
Then the door.
Locked.
Everything that happened next would later become a dividing line in Maya's memory.
Before the locked door.
After the locked door.
Because until that second, Lorenzo still believed danger came from outside his mansion.
The locked nursery proved otherwise.
And the handwritten note pushed beneath the door proved someone inside knew Maya too.
Lorenzo read the message.
HE FOUND YOU BEFORE WE DID.
His gaze lifted.
"Who is 'he'?"
Maya didn't answer.
Lorenzo folded the note.
"Who is looking for you?"
"My ex-boyfriend owes money."
"To whom?"
"I don't know."
"Names."
"I don't have names."
Lorenzo's voice dropped.
"Someone infiltrated my home, disabled security to this room, drugged or intoxicated my son's nurse, locked us inside, and knows your full name."
Maya's stomach tightened.
"You think I'm involved."
"I think I don't believe in coincidence."
Leo stirred.
Maya rocked him gently.
"Neither do I."
Lorenzo studied her.
"Tell me everything."
So she did.
Not all of it.
Not yet.
But enough.
Daniel.
The debts.
The black sedan.
The threatening calls.
The note inside her locker.
Lorenzo's expression changed when she mentioned the last one.
"What note?"
"Keep your head down."
"When?"
"A week ago."
"You didn't report it?"
"I thought it came from Daniel's creditors."
"It might have."
"Then why do you care?"
"Because employee lockers are behind two restricted doors."
Maya stared at him.
Lorenzo continued.
"Visitors cannot access them."
A chill ran through her.
"So whoever left it—"
"Works here."
Or had help from someone who did.
Neither needed to finish the sentence.
Suddenly the lights went out.
The nursery fell dark.
Maya gasped.
Leo began crying.
Lorenzo crossed the room immediately.
"Stay where you are."
Emergency lights came on several seconds later, washing the room in dim red.
Maya's heart pounded.
A sound came from the hallway.
Metal against metal.
Someone testing the lock.
Lorenzo raised his pistol.
"Maya."
It was the first time he'd used her first name.
"Get behind the crib."
She obeyed.
The handle moved once.
Twice.
Then stopped.
Lorenzo waited.
Thirty seconds.
A minute.
Nothing.
Finally, footsteps retreated.
Maya barely breathed.
"Whoever that was," she whispered, "they wanted us to know they were there."
Lorenzo looked toward her.
"No."
"What?"
"They wanted to know if I'd panic."
"Did you?"
His mouth tightened.
"I don't panic."
Despite everything, Maya almost laughed.
Almost.
Then Leo made another small noise.
He had finished feeding.
Maya lifted him to her shoulder.
A moment later came the softest burp imaginable.
Lorenzo froze.
Maya stared at him.
For the first time that night, something almost human cracked through his expression.
Relief.
Pure, stunned relief.
His son had eaten.
His son had kept it down.
Leo settled against Maya.
And Lorenzo Rossi slowly understood that the woman he had almost treated as an intruder might be the reason his child survived the night.
But neither of them knew yet that Leo's hunger wasn't an accident.
Someone had spent weeks making a healthy baby look terminally ill.
May you like
And that person wasn't finished.
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