Elina was just a broke waitress trying to survive another double shift when a feared mafia boss entered carrying his baby son. The child supposedly rejected everyone—bodyguards, nannies, even family. But the moment he saw Elina, he reached desperately for her and refused to let go. When she finally held him, the baby instantly relaxed against her chest. His father went pale. “Only his mother could do that.” Then Elina noticed an old photograph behind the bar—and froze. The woman in it had her eyes, her smile…almost her exact face.

I slammed the diary shut, my breathing turning shallow and erratic.

Dante was not a grieving widower searching for his wife's killers.

He was the monster who had orchestrated the brutal car bombing.

I shoved the diary into my pocket, determined to act completely normal until I could find a way to escape.

For the next three days, I played the role of the perfect, compliant nanny.

Dante seemed to soften around me, his dangerous edge dulling whenever he watched me holding his son.

He invited me to take a walk with him through the expansive rose gardens.

The afternoon sun was warm, and for a brief moment, the estate almost felt peaceful.

Dante reached out, gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

You have brought light back into this house, Elina, he murmured softly.

Before I could figure out how to respond, a sharp, cracking sound echoed from the distant tree line.

Dante violently shoved me to the ground, throwing his own body entirely over mine.

A sniper bullet tore through the air, embedding itself deep into the stone fountain right beside us.

Dante groaned in agonizing pain, his heavy body pressing down on me.

Guards swarmed the garden instantly, providing covering fire as they dragged us back inside the mansion.

They laid Dante out on the massive dining room table, his white shirt rapidly soaking with dark crimson blood.

The estate doctor was miles away, leaving me to apply emergency pressure to the terrible wound.

I frantically ripped Dante's ruined shirt open to access the bleeding bullet hole.

As I pressed a clean towel against his shoulder, my eyes locked onto his muscular chest.

I expected to see the terrible black scorpion tattoo that the diary specifically warned about.

The diary stated that the man who wanted to kill Isabella had a scorpion inked over his heart.

Dante's chest was completely bare, bearing only old battle scars and a small cross.

Dante did not kill Isabella, I realized with a sudden, overwhelming wave of relief.

When my newborn 'passed away,' my mother-in-law leaned in and said

My Husband Left Me Alone in My Car While I Was in Labor

“You’re Dead When We Get Home,” He Snapped

Just then, Dante's brother, Victor, burst into the room to check on the commotion.

Victor's silk shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, clearly revealing a dark black scorpion tattooed on his chest.

Chapter 5 - The Scorpion Tattoo