Aria's POV

"She looks familiar."

The words hung in the air, freezing the blood in my veins.

Did he recognize me? I held my breath, waiting for the realization to dawn in those icy blue eyes.

But before the silence could stretch another second, Jasmine intercepted.

"Oh, Dom, this is my cousin," Jasmine said, her voice dropping into a flawless, sugary purr.

She stepped closer to him, subtly blocking his line of sight. "People always say we share a family resemblance."

Cousin.

Standing right there in front of Dominic Valentino, wearing my ring, with my son breathing somewhere inside those stone walls, my only sister looked me dead in the eye and called me her cousin.

I didn't flinch. I smiled. Because twenty-five years of cleaning up Jasmine's messes taught me one thing, survival first, anger later.

"I don't think you two look alike." Dominic held the gate a second longer than necessary. His gaze dragged from Jasmine's forced smile to my face, dark and unreadable, calculating a sum neither of us could see.

Then, he gave a curt nod and walked inside.

The moment the heavy door clicked shut behind us, Jasmine's fingers dug into my wrist. She dragged me into a side parlor, out of the camera's blind spot, and shoved the door shut.

The sweet, relieved sister vanished.

"Don't say a word, Aria," she hissed.

"You're wearing my ring."

Jasmine glanced at the heavy silver band on her left hand. She didn't look guilty; she looked cornered. "Aria, you don't understand..."

"I understand you told the most dangerous man in the city that my son is yours."

Tears welled in her eyes. It was a flawless, terrifyingly quick transition. The same look she used when we were kids to get my last dollar.

"I was terrified! When I found him, his men were practically shooting the traitors. He was covered in blood. I handed him the ring, and he just... assumed. He looked at me like I was his savior."

"So you played the saint."

"I played to stay alive!" Her voice broke, looking like she did something great.

"He took us in. He gave Luca everything..."

"Luca." The name felt like a physical blow.

"That's what Dominic named him." Jasmine stepped closer, her tone softening into something venomous and pleading.

"Aria, we've been married for three weeks. If he finds out I lied now, he won't just throw me out. He'll kill me. He'll take the baby and you'll never see him again."

She let that hang in the air. The ultimate threat disguised as a warning. She knew exactly where to twist the knife.

"What do you want, Jasmine?" I kept my voice dead flat.

"Be his nanny." Relief washed over her features. "Just for a while. You get to be close to him. I get someone I can actually trust in this house. I'll tell Dominic you needed work. That's it."

She reached out, touching my arm. "He's your son, Aria. He needs you."

I stared at her hand. Then at her face. I knew none of this was about what Luca needed. It was about Jasmine keeping her throne.

"If anyone hurts him in this house," I said, my voice dropping to a whisper, "I will burn it down with you inside."

Jasmine blinked, stepping back. She forced a smile. "Follow me."

The nursery was on the second floor. I heard the crying before we even reached the door, a frantic, exhausted wail that made my chest physically ache.

I pushed past Jasmine and went straight to the crib.

He was tiny, red-faced, fists curled tight. Four months old. Dark hair. My son. My hands were shaking as I scooped him up. The second his cheek hit my chest, he startled.

Then, he inhaled, buried his face into the crook of my neck, and grabbed a fistful of my collar. The crying stopped instantly.

Hi, baby, I thought, closing my eyes as a tear slipped down my jaw. I'm so sorry I'm late.

"He's been crying for an hour." My eyes snapped open.

Dominic stood in the doorway. He'd shed his suit jacket. The gun holstered at his ribs was in plain sight. He wasn't looking at Jasmine. He was staring at me.

"He wanted to be held," I said, my voice tighter than I meant it to be.

"Jasmine said to let him cry it out. Said he needed discipline." Dominic's voice was a low rumble.

I didn't look at my sister. I just tightened my hold on Luca.

Dominic took a slow step into the room. His gaze drifted down, just for a fraction of a second, to my left shoulder, which was covered by my collar, where my birthmark was.

Did he remember something about that night a year ago?

His eyes snapped back up to mine. The temperature in the room plummeted.

"What did you say your name was?"

"Aria," I said. "Just Aria."

He nodded, slow and deliberate. "You're on night duty, Aria." He turned and walked out, leaving the air completely entirely out of the room.

Aria's POV

The echo of his footsteps hadn't even faded before Jasmine was moving.

She threw herself out of the nursery and into the hallway, catching up to him before he reached the top of the stairs.

"Dom, wait," she called out. The venom from a moment ago vanished, replaced instantly by a breathless, sugary whine.

I stood in the doorway, Luca resting against my chest, and watched my sister go to his daddy.

Jasmine reached out, wrapping her manicured fingers around his bicep. "I was thinking, since I've been so stressed with the baby... maybe we could go shopping downtown today? Just the two of us?"

Dominic stopped. He didn't look at her face. He looked at her hand on his arm.

The shift was microscopic, but I saw it. He withdrew his arm with a chilling, utter detachment, leaving Jasmine's hands grasping at empty air.

"I have business," he said. The tone wasn't that of a bloodthirsty monster. It was the tone of a man addressing a minor, inconvenient employee.

He reached into his jacket, pulled out a sleek black titanium card, and held it out. "Take the car. Take some guards with you."

He didn't wait for her to take it and just slid it onto the hallway console table and walked down the stairs without a backward glance.

Jasmine stared after him, her jaw tight, before snatching the card. She glanced back and caught me watching. I raised an eyebrow.

If he finds out I lied, he'll kill me. I tightened my hold on Luca.

Dominic Valentino might be a ruthless mob boss to the rest of the world, but to Jasmine? He wasn't some terrifying, abusive tyrant holding her hostage. He was just a deep pocket who barely tolerated her presence.

Another lie. Another manipulation to keep me playing her game.

The estate settled into a suffocating silence around two in the morning.

I was dozing in the armchair next to the crib when the first whimper broke the quiet. By the time I was on my feet, Luca was letting out a sharp, agonizing wail.

I scooped him up, immediately feeling the heat radiating through his soft onesie. A fever. Not dangerously high, but enough to make a four-month-old miserable.

"Shh, I know, I know," I whispered, pressing his flushed cheek to my neck.

I went into the adjoining bathroom, wet a soft washcloth with tepid water, and began pacing the dim nursery.

I wiped the back of his neck, his little wrists, gently bouncing him with a rhythmic sway that my body seemed to remember on a cellular level.

The crying wouldn't stop. He was frustrated, hot, and exhausted.

Without thinking, I closed my eyes and let a melody slip past my lips.

It was an old, quiet lullaby I had hummed to the concrete walls of my cell in Lockwood Correctional. I used to press my hands to my swollen belly in the dark, singing it until the baby stopped kicking and went to sleep.

"Hush now, little one, the storm is passing by..." I sang softly, letting the vibration of my chest soothe him. "Rest your head, the dawn is in the sky..."

It worked like magic. Within minutes, the frantic wailing dissolved into small, sleepy hiccups. Luca's tiny fists uncurled, his breathing evening out against my collarbone as he drifted back to sleep.

"He likes that song."

I gasped, spinning around.

Dominic was leaning against the doorframe, a shadow detached from the darker hallway. He had stripped off his suit jacket and tie, his dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar. In his hand was a glass of warm water.

How long had he been standing there?

He pushed off the frame and walked silently into the room. The sheer size of him made the spacious nursery feel suddenly small. He stopped a foot away and held out the glass.

"Drink," he ordered softly. "You've been pacing for twenty minutes."

I took the glass with my free hand, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Thank you."

He didn't step back. He stood there, watching me take a sip, his dark eyes missing nothing in the dim moonlight.

"Fourteen months in Lockwood Correctional Facility," he said.

It was a statement of fact. My blood ran cold, but I forced my face to remain completely blank. Of course he ran a background check for his son. He was the head of the Valentino family.

"You do your homework, Mr. Valentino," I said, keeping my voice low so as not to wake Luca.

"I don't let strangers sleep fifty feet from my son without knowing exactly what they are capable of," Dominic replied, his gaze locking onto mine. "Aggravated assault. You put a man in the hospital."

I met his stare evenly. I knew exactly what the police report said. "I hit a scumbag who was putting his hands on his girlfriend. He pressed charges. I'd do it again."

I left out Daniel's name. I left out Jasmine. And I prayed to God that the prison records his men pulled were the redacted ones that didn't mention the prison infirmary. Or the birth.

Dominic stared at me. The silence stretched, thick and heavy. He was looking for a crack, a tell, a lie.

Then, he took a half-step closer. The scent of bergamot, expensive scotch, and gun oil wrapped around me. I stopped breathing.

He reached out.

I braced myself, but his hand didn't go to my throat.

His thumb gently brushed a stray curl of hair away from my collarbone. His skin was rough, calloused, and the contact sent an electric shock straight down my spine.

His fingers lingered for a fraction of a second, hovering just millimeters above the fabric of my shirt, right over the spot where my birthmark lay hidden.

His dark eyes dropped to my lips, then slowly drifted back up to hold my gaze.

"You don't hold him like a beginner," Dominic murmured, his voice dropping an octave, vibrating with a dangerous, quiet intensity. "Tell me, Aria... have you ever had a child?"