"A mafia boss held a pistol to my head for touching his newborn—until I pulled the hidden object cutting into his baby's neck."

Julian Harrington was kept entirely in the dark about Dr. Harrison’s confession. Alexander executed a brilliant, quiet tactical containment—allowing his brother to believe the baby was still in critical condition while Marcus’s intelligence team compiled an unshakeable federal wiretap case against Julian’s conspirators.

I was moved from the staff quarters into a luxury private suite adjoining the nursery on the second floor of the estate.

My role as head guardian was no longer just about feeding and changing swaddle linens. Through my unique, telepathic bond with Theo, I became the baby's voice—an invisible, perfect intelligence receiver inside the heart of the Harrington empire.

Every time a staff member, executive, or relative entered the nursery, Theo’s quiet internal thoughts revealed details no security camera could capture:

This lady smells like bitter almond soap, Theo thought when a senior housekeeper entered. (We found unlabelled sedative powder hidden in her apron pocket).

The tall man with silver hair has a loud ticking watch, Theo noted when an external auditor visited. (The "watch" was a micro-wiretap transmitter sending live audio to Dominic Vance).

By Thursday evening, three days after I saved Theo's life, Alexander sat in my private suite while I nursed the baby with a bottle of warm milk.

Alexander wore a simple dark wool sweater, his sleeves pushed up, revealing the heavy silver watch and intricate tattoos tracing his forearms. He sat in the armchair beside my window, watching me cradle his son with an expression of deep, peaceful reverence.

"My legal team finalized the corporate audit this afternoon, Ella," Alexander said softly, his gravelly baritone filling the warm room. "Julian has already transferred thirty million dollars out of our maritime accounts to Dominic Vance's shell entities in Panama."

"When are you moving against him?" I asked, looking up from Theo.

"Tomorrow night," Alexander revealed, his gray eyes flashing with cold, sovereign resolve. "The annual Harrington Maritime Gala is taking place at the Plaza Hotel. Julian plans to announce his temporary stewardship of the firm, believing Theo will be placed in hospice care by midnight."

Daddy is going to win, Theo’s clear voice giggled softly inside my mind. Daddy is big and strong.

I couldn't help but smile, leaning down to kiss the baby's tiny forehead.

Alexander noticed my smile. He stood up slowly, walking over to stand beside my chair. He reached out, his long, warm fingers gently smoothing a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

"You smile every time you look at him, Ella," Alexander murmured, his voice dropping into a tender, velvet register that made my heart flutter. "It's as if you two are having private conversations."

My breath hitched in my throat. I looked up into his handsome, severe face, feeling a powerful, undeniable connection tightening between us.