Caring for the Mafia Son

Rachel POV

Lying on the soft bed, I felt the warm sunlight spill across my skin from the large window by the wall.

Before I even opened my eyes, I felt a small weight beside my arm... and the faint sound of a shaky sniffle.

My eyelids fluttered.

Through my tired, blurry vision, I saw Leo sitting at the edge of the bed-knees tucked tightly to his chest, his small hands gripping the blanket.

 His hazel eyes were wide and glossy, staring at me like he was terrified I might disappear again.

"Mama?" he whispered, his little voice breaking.

My heart cracked instantly.

"Oh-Leo." My voice was rough as I pushed myself up. "Hey... sweetheart."

The moment I moved, he launched himself into my arms, crawling onto my lap with all the force his tiny body could manage. He buried his face into my chest, clutching my shirt like he never wanted to let go.

"You left..." he sobbed. "I looked everywhere..."

Guilt stabbed straight through me.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, holding him tightly despite how sore and weak my limbs felt. "I didn't mean to scare you. I really didn't."

"But why?" he sniffled, pulling back just a little. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, no-never." I cupped the back of his small head, my voice cracking. "I was just... scared."

"Why?" he asked again, curling closer into me like a kitten seeking warmth.

"I don't know," I whispered. It wasn't the full truth, but I couldn't bring myself to say more.

Leo nodded in that soft, earnest way he always did. "I get scared sometimes too. And Papa gets scared even though he acts tough."

A small laugh escaped me at his innocent betrayal of Damien's reputation.

"Oh really?"

"Yes." Leo beamed. "But you don't have to be like Papa. I'll be here with you! And Grandpa Vance too."

My smile wavered. Damien did save me... but the truth was harsh:

I wouldn't have been in danger if I hadn't tied to him in the first place.

Before I could say anything, a knock sounded at the door.

Leo and I both turned toward it.

"Um... come in," I said softly.

A well-dressed man in a suit stepped inside - not one I recognised. Damien had too many men; I could never keep track of them all.

"The Boss requests your attention," he said politely, bowing his head. "I'll give you space to get ready, madam."

He bowed and stepped out.

Leo glanced at me. "Papa wants to see you."

I exhaled shakily.

"I'll go in a minute," I murmured. "I just... need to wash up first."

Leo nodded and stayed close, his small hand resting on my arm.

--

The hall outside my room was quiet, almost unnervingly so. Leo walked beside me, holding my hand until we reached the end of the corridor.

"I'll wait here," he whispered, giving my fingers one last squeeze.

I smiled softly. "Okay."

A guard opened the tall wooden door for me.

Damien's study was dim, lit only by the amber glow of the fireplace. Shelves lined the walls, filled with files, weapons, old maps-things I didn't dare look too closely at.

Damien stood by the large desk, sleeves rolled, hair slightly undone from lack of sleep. He looked up immediately when I stepped inside.

Something softened in his expression.

"Rachel."

My heart jumped.

He didn't speak like a mafia lord then. He spoke like a man who had stayed up all night worrying.

"I-um... your guard said you wanted to see me," I said, closing the door gently.

"Yes." He nodded once. "Come here."

The command wasn't harsh. But it still made my breath catch.

I strolled to the centre of the room. Not too close. Not too far.

Damien watched me the whole time-quiet, controlled, intense.

"You look better," he said quietly.

"I took a moment to wash up," I murmured.

"Good."

A short silence settled between us, warm but heavy.

Then he exhaled slowly, as if preparing.

"Rachel... what happened yesterday cannot happen again."

I stiffened. "I know. I-"

"No." His voice softened. "I don't mean the escape."

I blinked.

He stepped forward, only a little.

"I mean the fear."

His eyes flicked over my face-gently.

"The trembling. The panic. The danger you walked into."

My throat tightened.

"I thought keeping you inside would protect you," Damien continued. "But Vance... reminded me that isolation only makes you act out of desperation."

I lowered my gaze. Embarrassed. Exposed. Seen.

"And because of that," he said quietly, "I've decided something."

I braced myself.

"You can return to school."

It felt like a punch.

A good one.

My breath hitched as the words sank in.

"Wait... really?" I whispered, hardly believing it.

"Yes." Damien nodded. "On one condition."

Of course, there was.

"You will have a driver," he said. "And protection. Discreet. Five men, no more. You won't see them, but they'll be there."

My eyes burned suddenly-hot with relief.

"And," he added, "anything you need-books, supplies, clothing-you will use the credit card I give you. No exceptions."

I didn't even think.

I didn't even process.

I just moved.

I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him.

It was instinct-quick, impulsive, a burst of relief and gratitude I couldn't stop.

Damien went absolutely still.

His breath caught-sharp and quiet.

For a moment, he didn't know what to do.

His hands hovered uncertainly near my back, not touching, not pushing me away... frozen in a rare moment of vulnerability.

"I'm sorry," I gasped, pulling back immediately, face burning. "I-I didn't mean to- It was just- I got excited and- I'm sorry-"

Damien was frozen.

Actually frozen.

He blinked once, breath stuck somewhere in his chest.

"You don't need to apologise," he said, his voice low. "It was... unexpected. That's all." 

A faint, almost imperceptible smirk touched his lips. "Glad to see you aren't scared to touch me, unlike last night in the alley."

I flushed red, his words sounding far more sensual and intimate than he probably intended.

Damien simply raised a brow at my flustered face, then shrugged as if it were nothing.

He picked up two items from his desk and held them out. I took them from his gloved hands. One was my phone. The other was the card he'd promised.

A black credit card.

Metal. Heavy. His name engraved on the front.

"Use it for anything."

"School-related things," I clarified.

Damien's gaze held mine. "No. For anything that makes you comfortable here. Buy clothes. Bags. Whatever you want."

A genuine smile spread across my face. "Oh-then I can finally replace my broken laptop charger! And maybe get that insanely expensive textbook I need. I've been saving forever-like actually forever-"

I rambled without thinking, only noticing Damien's quiet amusement when a soft, low chuckle escaped him.

The sound made me blush. It was so pure. So soft.

And it was for me.

He tried to hide his grin, but I saw it. "Your choice, Rachel."