Chapter 2 - The Shadow of Saint Jude’sThe accusation hit me like a physical blow. I pulled Leo tighter against my chest, shielding the infant with my body as if Lorenzo’s cold words could physically harm him.
"I don't know who Julian is!" I cried, my voice trembling with raw, undeniable grief. "I have never met a Julian Rossi in my life! I was a student working at a bakery in Queens! Nine months ago, I was attacked in an alley behind my building after my shift! I never saw the man's face! I never wanted that pregnancy, Mr. Rossi!"
Lorenzo stared down at me, his sharp grey eyes dissecting every line of my face, searching for a twitch, a lie, a slip of composure. But he found only the bitter, devastating truth of a woman who had been broken by the world long before she stepped into his mansion.
"I didn't even know I was carrying a baby until three months in," I sobbed quietly, my tears falling onto Leo’s soft blanket. "I was terrified. I was poor. But when he started kicking... I loved him. I wanted him. And three weeks ago, he was born sleeping. His heart stopped before I could even hear him cry."
Leo let out a soft, contented sigh in my arms, his tiny stomach finally full. His eyes drifted closed, his little mouth releasing his latch as he fell into a deep, peaceful sleep—the first restful sleep he had known since his birth.
Lorenzo looked at his son. For the first time in two months, the infant wasn't squirming in pain, throwing up blood-stained bile, or screaming from starvation. The color in Leo’s lips was pink, his breathing slow and steady.
Slowly, Lorenzo reached out and touched his son's soft cheek. A long, shuddering breath escaped his chest.
"He's asleep," Lorenzo whispered, his voice cracking slightly. "He hasn't slept longer than twenty minutes since Sophia died."
"He was starving, Mr. Rossi," I said softly, gently adjusting my dress and buttoning my uniform over my chest. "His body couldn't digest synthetic formulas or processed donor milk. He needed natural, fresh milk... and his body recognized mine."
Lorenzo stood up straight, wiping a hand over his face. He walked over to the large bay window overlooking the dark, rain-slicked grounds of the Long Island estate. Outside, high-voltage fences and armed guards patrolled the perimeter.
"You are going to stay in this room, Hunter," Lorenzo declared, his back turned to me. "You will not sleep in the staff quarters again. You will move your belongings into the adjoining suite."
"Mr. Rossi... I am a maid," I said, rising carefully from the rocking chair, cradling the sleeping baby against my shoulder. "If the other servants see me moving into the family wing—"
"The other servants will mind their business or they will be replaced," Lorenzo cut in sharply, turning around to face me. "My son’s life depends on you now. Every doctor, every specialist, every top surgeon in New York failed. You saved him tonight. That makes you the most valuable person in this house."
He took a step toward me, his grey eyes holding a dark, protective intensity that sent a chill straight down my spine.
"But make no mistake, Hunter," Lorenzo added softly. "I am going to investigate every single hour of your past. I am going to find out who attacked you in that alley nine months ago. And if I find out that my brother's blood runs in the child you lost... things in this house will become very complicated."
Before I could answer, the nursery door clicked open again.
Dr. Vance, the chief pediatrician Lorenzo had hired from Johns Hopkins, hurried into the room holding a tray of syringes, accompanied by two night nurses.
"Mr. Rossi!" Dr. Vance said frantically. "The heart monitor telemetry signaled a sudden drop in pulse rate—we need to prepare the emergency gastric tube immediately—"
Dr. Vance stopped dead in his tracks.
He stared at me standing in the center of the room. He stared at little Leo, who was sleeping peacefully against my chest, his cheeks round and rosy. Then he looked at the heart monitor, which read a perfect, stable ninety-five beats per minute.
"What... what happened here?" Dr. Vance stuttered, his jaw dropping. "Did the infant retain the amino-acid formula?"
Lorenzo stepped between the doctor and me, his tall frame blocking Dr. Vance's view.
"The formula is thrown in the trash, Doctor," Lorenzo announced coldly. "Cancel the feeding tubes. Cancel the specialists. My son has found his nourishment."
Dr. Vance blinked in utter confusion. "Mr. Rossi, with all due respect, what nourishment? Where did it come from?"
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Lorenzo turned his head slightly, his sharp profile silhouetted against the ambient light, his eyes meeting mine.
"That is none of your concern, Doctor," Lorenzo said. "Pack your bags. Your services are no longer required."
