Chapter 6 - BLOOD TIES
The war bled into the streets of New York. Over the next three weeks, the news was filled with "unexplained explosions" at Moretti-owned shipping warehouses and "mysterious disappearances" of key union bosses. Inside the estate, life became a bizarre mix of domestic routine and military occupation.
Claire kept the children focused. She organized indoor scavenger hunts, forced them to do their math homework, and baked cookies. She created a bubble of childhood normalcy inside a war zone.
One evening, Julian walked into the kitchen, looking exhausted. His knuckles were bruised, and the dark circles under his eyes spoke of sleepless, violent nights. He sat down heavily at the island.
Without a word, Claire placed a plate of hot food in front of him.
Julian looked at the meal, then up at her. “I didn’t ask for this.”
“You didn’t have to,” Claire replied, wiping down the counters. “You look like you haven’t eaten in three days. Eat it, or I’ll treat you like Mateo and confiscate your phone.”
A genuine, tired smile broke across Julian’s face. He picked up the fork. “The Morettis are cornered. But the Commission—the ruling families in New York—want peace. They called a sit-down for tomorrow.”
“Is that a good thing?” Claire asked, pouring him a glass of water.
“They want me to marry Isabella Moretti,” Julian said, the words falling like lead weights. “To bridge the families and stop the bloodshed.”
Claire stopped wiping the counter. The rag in her hand suddenly felt incredibly heavy. A strange, sharp pain twisted in her chest—jealousy. She had absolutely no right to it. She was the nanny. He was the billionaire mafia boss. But the thought of him standing at an altar with another woman made her feel physically sick.
“And are you?” Claire asked, her voice dangerously quiet.
Julian stood up, leaving the food untouched. He walked around the island, trapping Claire against the marble counter. He boxed her in with his arms, his massive frame completely enveloping her.
“I told the Commission that Isabella Moretti could rot in hell,” Julian murmured, leaning in until his lips were a breath away from hers. “I told them there is only one woman in this city I have any interest in. And she currently makes a terrible salary trying to keep my children from destroying my house.”
May you like
Claire’s breath hitched. “Julian…”
He didn’t let her finish. Julian crushed his mouth against hers, kissing her with a desperate, starving intensity. Claire kissed him back, tangling her hands in his dark hair, entirely surrendering to the fire that had been building between them since the moment she caught that pancake. It was a kiss forged in chaos, heavy with the promise of violence and the desperate need for comfort.
