I Agreed to Carry the Mafia Boss’s Son to Save My Father’s Life, but After the Birth His Plea Took My Breath Away

When Dante Morelli told me that I had to give birth to his child, my father’s heart monitor suddenly sounded an alarm in the hospital room.

“Two million dollars, Elena,” he said, placing a folder on the table. “You carry my child for nine months and hand him over to me on the day of his birth.”

I was standing in the office of the most dangerous man in Chicago, while my hands were hidden behind my back so that he would not see how my fingers were trembling. My father’s bills were waiting for me in the kitchen drawer. And his treatment had already stopped because we no longer had money.

I did not touch the folder.

“Are you crazy? I clean your house. I am not a rented woman.”

Dante looked up from his glass for the first time. Behind him, on the dark wooden wall, an old clock was producing a heavy metallic sound.

“You are the only woman in this house who is not afraid of money,” he told me. “And the only one whom my enemies cannot buy.”

“You trust no one.”

“You understood correctly.”

He held out a pen to me. A small silver fish was engraved on the top of the pen. Later, this insignificant object would appear before my eyes more often than my own face in the mirror.

The contract said that on the day of the child’s birth I had to leave forever. Dante would no longer contact me, and I could not demand my child from his family. The word “child” was not written there. Only “biological product.”

The word sounded so cold, as if I were signing for an object, not a human being.

That night I told my father at the hospital that I had found money for the treatment.

“Where from, my child?” he asked me, gripping his old copper watch on his hand.

“I was simply lucky.”

My father looked at me for a long time.

“Sometimes money opens a door, but locks the way out behind you.”

Three months later I found myself on my knees on the floor in Dante’s house because of vomiting. The walls were thin. I thought no one would hear, but the door opened immediately.

“You should sleep,” Dante said.

“You too.”

He placed room-temperature water by the sink.

“Cold water bothers you,” he said.

I had never told him that he remembered.

In the seventh month he took my hand on the stairs so that I would not fall. In the eighth month I already sensed the sound of his footsteps in advance, and I was ashamed of myself because of it.

In the ninth month labor began three weeks early. That same morning someone had planned to kill Dante, and armed men had taken over the house. The car sped through a red light. Dante’s hand squeezed mine so strongly that I closed my eyes from the pain.

Twelve hours later the baby was placed in his arms.

Dante fell to his knees beside my bed. For the first time I saw fear on his face.

“Elena, I have to ask you for something before I lose my courage.”

He took the contract out of his jacket and placed it on my blanket. He moved his hand toward the folder, but still had not opened it…

Dante’s fingers touched the edge of the folder. The pen with the silver fish fell to the floor and rang sharply.

“Did I come to take the money from you?” I asked.

“No.”

“Then why do you have the contract?”

He looked at the baby. The boy had his fist clenched and his lips were trembling.

“Cancel it,” Dante said quietly. “Together with me.”

“You wrote this.”

“I know. At that time I did not know what it would make me lose.”

Marco appeared beyond the door.

“Sir, the doctor is waiting for you.”

“Leave.”

Marco looked first at Dante, then at me, and closed the door.

I looked at the contract. For nine months this sheet of paper had been the price of my freedom. Now Dante was telling me that I myself had to burn it.

“If I sign, what will you get?” I asked.

“A chance that you and the child will no longer try to escape from me.”

“I have to leave the child with you.”

“No, Elena. That is exactly why I am asking you this.”

There was no authority in his voice anymore. Only despair.

Then the infant began to cry. Dante raised his head, as if that crying were an order.

I opened the folder. On the very first page, below the signature, I saw a small seal that I had never noticed before. When he saw the seal, Dante’s face changed…

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The seal was round, and inside it were three letters: “M. M.”

“What is this?” I asked.

Dante did not answer me.

Marco came in again, this time together with the doctor and a young woman. The woman was a lawyer. She held a black bag in her hand, whose clasp clicked with every movement.

“Is the room secured?” she asked.

“All exits,” Marco answered.

Dante kissed the baby and then turned toward me.

“Now you will understand why I could not simply let you go.”

The lawyer took two sealed documents out of the bag. His name was written on the first, and mine on the second.

“This contract belongs not only to the two of us,” he said. “Dante Morelli is listed in this document as the child’s father, but the seal of the contract belongs not to his family, but to the Morelli Foundation.”

“What difference does it make?” I asked.

“The foundation had the right to guardianship of your child if Dante died or became incapacitated. However, there is one additional condition: before the child’s birth, you had to leave the house.”

Dante avoided my eyes.

“My cousin Vito had made a deal against you,” he said. “He wanted to kill me and then take possession of the child. By staying in this house, you were interfering with his plan.”

“Is that why you brought me here?”

“At first, yes.”

These two words caused more noise in the room than the baby’s crying.

The lawyer opened the second document.

“But the plan changed. Last night Dante signed a new declaration. You are appointed the child’s legal guardian. The contract is canceled. The money still belongs to you, but only if you yourself choose to accept it.”

I looked at Dante.

“You knew all this time?”

“I knew that Vito was also considering killing you,” he said. “I could not tell you. If you became frightened and left, he would find you.”

“And you lied to me.”

“Yes.”

Dante’s voice broke for the first time.

“But when I saw the baby, I realized that I could no longer bear losing you. Nor the child.”

I tore the contract in half. The sound of the paper rang sharply.

At that moment Dante’s phone rang. Marco answered it, listened for several seconds, and lost the color in his face.

“Sir, Vito knows the hospital’s address. And he says that he has another document, which your new declaration cannot cancel…”

Dante wrapped his arms around the baby. And I realized for the first time that the real danger had not yet entered our room…