He only needs a mother.
A child’s cry was the first sound to break the silence of Bellissimo.
Grace stopped moving, and the tray shook in her hands. The sound of the crystal glasses clinking together conveyed nerves. The fancy restaurant, with its chandeliers dripping gold and its marble flooring speaking old-money style, was quiet save for the weak sobbing of a small kid at the corner booth that everyone had been told not to go near.
She didn’t know who he was or who the man holding him was. She only knew that seeing a youngster scream that hard—his body shaking and grief pouring out of him in ragged gasps—made something break in her chest.
“Don’t,”
She wasn’t concerned about the name. The child’s misery was everything.
Her feet moved her onward before her thoughts caught up. At that point, she just saw the man—the father. He sat still in the leather booth, his dark hair perfectly styled, and his shoulders were tense like a predator poised to break. He looked up at her, and for a moment she forgot how to breathe.
Amber.
He stared at her like he had been drowning for months and had finally glimpsed the beach.
When one of his bodyguards blocked her way, the man murmured gently, “Let her through.”
Grace took a breath and stepped into a world that wasn’t hers.
He was scary beautiful up close. The way he wore his suit shouted money and danger, and the small scar on his temple spoke violence. But she still bent down, crouching so she could see the small boy’s face.
She
The youngster hiccuped and looked at her through watery lashes. His father’s fingers gripped his shoulder tightly to protect him. “Luca,” the man said softly, his accent wrapping around the name like silk and fire. “Papa needs you to be strong.”
Luca just cried more.
Grace’s voice got even softer. She remarked, “You know, my little brother used to cry like that when he missed our mom.” We used to count stars with him until he felt better. Do you want to give it a shot?
The kid blinked. The crying turned into hiccups. She took a deep breath. “Let’s work on it together, okay? She breathed in and out.
Her tiny lungs followed her beat. The storm slowly went away.
It was like the whole restaurant was breathing with them.
Grace smiled. “There we go.” Luca, you’re so brave.
Then, without meaning to, she said the words that would change everything: “He just needs a mom.”
She was horrified when she heard herself, and her eyes got bigger right away. But the man, this calm, deadly stranger, only stared at her, his face showing something raw.
He answered in a raspy voice, “You’re right.” “He does.”
Grace froze when Luca grabbed for her. The father’s voice broke. “Please. “Just for a moment.”
That’s why she held him.
The little body melted on her chest, warm and trusting. With each passing second, his breathing became steady. Grace’s heart hurt in the loveliest and oddest manner.
The man was staring at her like she was a miracle when she looked up.
That night, Grace sat in her little Brooklyn apartment and stared at the black business card he had left on her table. It had no name, only a number embossed in silver.
Her roommate murmured, “Gabriel Russo,” after a quick search on Google. “Grace, he’s the Gabriel Russo.” His family is responsible for 50% of the city’s crime. You can’t call him.
“He needs help as a father,” Grace said softly.
“He’s a murderer.”
Grace thought of the expression in his eyes and how he had cradled his son, who was as frail as glass. She thought, “Maybe he’s both.”
She called the number at dawn.
He picked up on the first ring. “I knew you would call.”
By nine in the morning, a black SUV had parked outside her building.
The Russo estate appeared like something from another universe, with stone columns, fountains, and gardens that were cut with military precision. As an older woman led Grace through echoing halls to a huge living room, she felt quite self-conscious about her inexpensive shoes and secondhand blouse.
Inside, things were a mess. Luca was on the floor, screaming, and toy cars were flying. Gabriel Russo, New York’s most feared man, appeared completely broken.
He looked up, and when he saw her, his face lit up like the sun coming through storm clouds. “Thank God,” he said.
Grace knelt down, not paying attention to the wealth around her. “Hey, champ,” she murmured softly. “That looks like a lot of anger.”
The youngster held a toy vehicle like a weapon and scowled through his tears. She smiled gently. “I get frustrated too. I wanted to chuck my fridge out the window yesterday. But it was too heavy, so I had ice cream instead.
A break. Then a watery laugh.
She kept going, her voice steady and quiet. “We get angry sometimes because we’re sad deep down.” We miss them so terribly that it pains the whole globe.
Luca muttered, “Mama.” “Want Mama.”
Grace’s throat got constricted. “I know, my love. She cared about you a lot. And it’s fine to miss her. ” It’s okay to be sad.”
Gabriel’s jaw tightened and his eyes shone. He murmured something in Italian, but his voice broke. Then he picked up Luca and held him close.
Grace turned away to give them some space, but his hand grabbed her wrist. “Stay,” he said. “Please.”
She stayed, though.
Gabriel got up cautiously when Luca eventually fell asleep, with the boy’s head resting on his shoulder. He looked at her with a look that was full of thanks and something deeper. He said softly, “You have a gift.” “Seventeen nannies have not worked.” You calmed him down in a minute.
“I just listened,” she said quietly.
He looked at her for a long time. “Please help me with him.” “Say what you want.”
“I’m not for sale.”
His mouth turned up slightly. “Grace Mitchell, everyone has a price.”
“Then mine is honesty,” she said. “I set the rules if I do this.”
She could tell he liked it. “Okay.”
Three weeks later, Grace could hardly remember what life was like before Luca’s laughter filled her days.
Now she spent half of her week at the estate, painting with Luca, teaching him how to bake cookies, and making him stop having nightmares. Gabriel had offered to buy the restaurant so she wouldn’t have to work two shifts, but she still did. She said no.
He was around more often lately. He would forget about his costly suit and sit on the floor with them, rolling toy cars across the carpet. Sometimes he would just sit there and watch as his sharp edges softened.
They sat on the patio looking out over the city one night after Luca had gone to bed. Gabriel filled two glasses with wine. His eyes showed the city lights—hot, dangerous, and sleepy.
He remarked softly, “You’ve brought life back into this house.” “Into him.” “Into me.”
“Gabriel—”
“Do you know how long it’s been since I felt anything but anger?” He looked at her. “Eight months.” Then you stepped into that restaurant, and all of a sudden I remembered how to breathe.
She shook her head. “You aren’t the monster that people think you are.”
He laughed bitterly. “Don’t make me sound romantic, Bella.” Monsters don’t get to change their ways.
“Maybe they will if they stop thinking they’re monsters.”
He raised his palm to her face and traced her jaw with his fingertips, as if he were terrified she would disappear. “You should be scared of me.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Why?”
“I’ve seen you sing lullabies out of tune and freak out about scratched knees. Gabriel, that’s not a monster. That’s a dad.
The air between them becomes thicker and charged.
“Grace,” he said softly. “If you don’t leave right now—”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
He kissed her.
It wasn’t soft. It was sadness, hunger, and months of unacknowledged need. When he finally let go, their foreheads were touching and they were both out of breath.
He said, “This is dangerous.”
“I know.”
“You deserve better.”
“I’ll choose what I deserve.”
The first gunfire broke the silence of the night.
Gabriel pushed her behind him right away, and a gun appeared out of nowhere. “Stay behind me,” he told them. His eyes were hard again, and all the softness was gone.
They broke into the foyer. Five men with masks. Rosa was held at knife point. Luca was screaming while being held by someone else.
“This is between us,” Gabriel murmured, his voice frigid as death.
“No,” the invader said with a sneer. “This is for the person you killed.” Now we steal what you love.
Grace didn’t think; she just ran.
“NO!” Gabriel yelled.
Gunfire broke out. The heat burned her arm, but she kept running until she reached Luca, pulled him loose, and curled over him as bullets broke the marble walls.
Then there was stillness.
She was picked up by strong arms. Gabriel’s voice trembled. “Grace, bella, you’re bleeding—”
She gasped, “I’m fine.” “He’s safe.”
He held both of them, shaking, and whispered prayers in Italian in her hair. “You beautiful, reckless woman,” he said softly. “You saved my son.”
Later, while paramedics wrapped her arm, Grace saw Gabriel murmur to Luca and check every inch of him with shaky hands. When he finally looked at her, his face changed completely.
He said, “I love you.” “God help me, I love you.” I didn’t realize it until I believed I had lost you.
Tears made her eyes hurt. She said in a low voice, “That’s scary.”
“I know.”
“And crazy.”
“I know.” He smiled a little. “But it is true.”
She held his face in her hands, blood and all. “Then I guess I’m crazy too.”
The next day, she saw him in his office. He poured her coffee, and the smell of roasted beans mixed with costly cologne and ghosts of gunpowder.
She said, “Those men came because of you.”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me everything.” The truth.
He looked at the murky liquid in his cup. “My family has been responsible for the city’s crime for a long time. When I was twenty-three, my father was killed. I took charge. “I’ve killed people, ordered deaths, and broken every law there is.”
“And your wife?”
His face broke. “A bomb in a car was meant for me.” She was eight months pregnant with our second kid.
Grace’s breath stopped. “I’m really sorry.”
“I killed the men who did it.” I killed all of them. He looked up, his eyes empty. “This is me.” “You’ll never be truly safe if you stay.”
She moved closer. “I jumped in front of bullets for your son.” I already made up my mind.
He shut his eyes and pressed his forehead against hers. “You are the bravest person I have ever met.”
“Or the dumbest.”
“That too.”
He chuckled lightly, then got serious. “Follow my rules if you stay. Always be safe. You learn how to keep yourself safe. And you tell me everything, every dread and threat.
“Deal.”
He looked at her face. “You’re not scared?”
She said, “I’m scared.” “But love is supposed to be scary.”
Weeks turned into something that looked like tranquility.
Grace left the restaurant and moved into the house. She worked out with his security crew and learned how to shoot and how to spot danger before it happened. Gabriel sought to uphold his word by paying more attention to real enterprises and less to the shadows.
Their evenings were their safe haven. Dinner with Luca, stories before bed, and laughing that filled rooms that used to be quiet. Gabriel would sometimes glance at both of them as if he still couldn’t believe they were real.
He took a tiny package out of his pocket one night.
“I know it’s soon,” he remarked in a shaky voice. “But I don’t want to waste another second acting like I don’t need you. Please marry me, Grace Mitchell. Please marry me.” Be Luca’s mom.”
Tears filled Grace’s eyes. “Yes,” she said in a low voice. “I’ve been saying yes since the night you looked at me like I was someone worth saving.”
He put the ring on her finger and kissed her slowly and with respect, like a man who had finally found his home.
Three years later,
The dawn light made the garden shine. Luca, who is now six, chased his tiny sister across the lawn, and their laughter sounded like bells. Grace smiled as she rested against the patio railing, her belly round with their third child.
“Mom, look at this!” Luca yelled and did a somersault across the lawn.
“Beautiful, baby!” she said, giggling.
From behind, strong arms wrapped around her waist. Gabriel’s voice was a soft whisper in her ear. “Are you happy?”
She answered, “Not possible.” “Even with all the guards.”
He joked, “Especially with them.” “You kept us safe.” You made this.
She twisted around in his arms. “Gabriel, no. We made this.
He kissed her on the forehead. “I love you, my brave, stubborn, and perfect wife.”
“And I love you, my wonderful, dangerous man.”
They watched their kids. Luca’s protecting arms caught his sister as she wobbled, and the sunlight shone off the diamond that had altered her life.
Grace remembered that first night: the crying boy, the desperate father, and her stupid, brave choice to walk toward them instead of away.
Sometimes love didn’t come gently.
Sometimes, love smashed into your life with the force of a child’s cry.
And occasionally, the heart that loved the most was the most deadly one in the room.
