I Saved His Daughter And The Mafia Boss Won’t Let Me Leave Chapter 03
The Ashford estate isn’t a house. It’s a fortress.
Iron gates. Stone walls lined with cameras. Armed guards at every entrance, nodding to Marco as we pass. Two checkpoints between the main gate and the front door.
Marco leads me through the east wing and up a sweeping staircase. It takes nearly ten minutes just to reach Lily’s room on the second floor.
He opens the door next to hers. “Miss Malone, this will be your room.”
I stand in the doorway, unable to move.
Soft cream-colored carpet. Floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over a garden the size of a city block. A bed bigger than my entire old apartment.
This is the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen in my life.
That evening, I make Lily a little bowl of chicken soup with star-shaped pasta, then sit on her floor building a block tower with her.
She doesn’t talk much. But every few minutes, she glances up to make sure I’m still there.
When she finally falls asleep, I tuck her in and slip back to my room.
Sometime past two in the morning, screaming tears through the hallway.
“Go away!”
“Don’t come near me!”
“Somebody help!”
I’m through her door before I’m fully awake.
Lily is pressed into the corner of her bed, drenched in cold sweat, eyes wide open but seeing something that isn’t there.
The maids try to get close. She swings her arms wildly at them.
“Bad people! You’re all bad people!”
“Go away!”
Marco wheels Roman in. The second Roman moves toward the bed, Lily screams even harder.
“Don’t come near me!”
I climb onto the bed and pull her into my arms.
“Lily. Hey. It’s me.”
She thrashes for a second, then her arms lock around my neck so tight I can barely breathe.
“Miss… they’re coming to take me again…”
“No they’re not.”
I rub her back, slow and steady.
“Remember? I already beat them all up. Punched one, kicked another, and smashed their car to pieces with a fire extinguisher.”
She hiccups between sobs. “Will they come back?”
“If they do, I’ll beat them up again. Even harder.”
“Nobody is ever gonna hurt you while I’m here. I promise.”
She finally goes quiet. But her little fingers stay clamped on my shirt like her life depends on it.
I hold her and hum the only lullaby I know. The one the woman who ran my orphanage used to sing. The only gentle thing from my entire childhood.
It takes a long time, but Lily finally drifts off.
I ease out of bed, careful not to make a sound, and step into the hallway.
Roman is still there. Waiting in the dark.
His head is bowed. The hallway is dim, but I can see his jaw clenched so tight the muscle is jumping. His hands grip the armrests like he’s trying to crush them.
This is a man whose name makes people go pale. A man who controls half this city’s underworld. And right now, he can’t even comfort his own daughter.
“When they took her,” he says quietly, “I couldn’t protect her. She knows that. She blames me for it.”
“She doesn’t blame you.” I lean against the wall, suddenly exhausted. “She’s just scared. Give her some time. She’ll come around.”
He doesn’t respond. After a long pause, he looks up.
“Where did you learn to fight like that?”
“Nowhere.” I rub my sore arms. “I grew up in an orphanage. You learn fast when nobody’s got your back.”
He watches me. I don’t say more. I don’t really want to get into it with someone I just met.
But he doesn’t push. He just asks:
“How far did you get in school?”
“Made it to high school.” I shrug, trying to sound like it doesn’t bother me. “Then I had to drop out and start working. Not exactly the sit-behind-a-desk type, you know?”
I pause. Then, before I can stop myself:
“I always wanted to go back, though. Finish, I mean. Just never got the chance.”
I don’t know why I told him that. I’ve never said it out loud before.
Roman watches me for a while. Says nothing.
But something shifts behind those cold eyes. Something I can’t quite read.
The next morning, I come downstairs to find the living room covered in ribbons.
Lily is standing in the middle of it all, wearing a white veil made from a pillowcase, clutching a fistful of roses she obviously stole from the garden.
She’s squeezing the stems so hard her little knuckles are white.
“Miss…”
“Will you marry my daddy?”
I nearly miss the last step.
“Marry — what now?”