Chapter 2 - The South Side DebtDaniel stepped out into the carpeted corridor, the heavy double doors of Suite A closing softly behind him. The cool air of the hallway hit his face, but it did nothing to dispel the sudden tension radiating from Mateo.
"What is it?" Daniel asked, leaning back against the wall and running a hand through his dark, disheveled hair.
Mateo handed him the phone. "We have a problem, Boss. The girl inside... Rachel Jenkins."
Daniel glanced at the screen. "What about her?"
"Her brother is Tommy Jenkins," Mateo said quietly. "The kid who stole fifty grand from our dock workers' credit pool to pay off his debts at the riverboat casino. You signed off on his collection file three days ago. Frank and the boys picked him up an hour ago. He's at the steel yard on 104th Street."
Daniel’s eyes hardened. He looked through the glass window into the suite. Inside, Rachel was sitting peacefully, her head tilted back against the wall, her soft voice still humming low as Leo slept soundly on her chest.
"She doesn't know?" Daniel asked.
"No," Mateo shook his head. "She's been working seventy-two hours straight trying to cover his debt. I checked her bank records while she was inside—she transferred four hundred dollars to a payday lender this morning. It was literally every cent she had left."
Daniel felt a cold knot twist in his gut. A few minutes ago, he had threatened to kill this woman if his son died. Yet, while her worthless brother was about to be executed by his own men, she was sitting in a dark room giving his son the only peace he had known since entering the world.
"Call Frank," Daniel ordered coldly.
Mateo pulled out his radio phone. "Tell him to execute?"
"Tell him if he lays a single finger on Tommy Jenkins, I will personally throw Frank into the blast furnace," Daniel growled. "Bring the kid here. Alive. Unharmed. Put him in the private lounge on the fifth floor."
Mateo blinked in surprise, but he didn't question the order. "Right away, Boss."
Ten minutes later, Rachel slowly shifted her position in the chair. Her back was aching, her arms were numb, but she didn't care. Leo had been asleep for nearly forty-five minutes now. His skin color had returned to a healthy pink, and his oxygen levels were holding steady at 98 percent on room air.
Dr. Harrison crept into the room like a man walking through a minefield. He held a stethoscope in his hand, looking at Rachel with a mixture of awe and profound relief.
"May I?" the doctor whispered.
Rachel nodded softly. Dr. Harrison gently placed the cold diaphragm of the stethoscope against the baby’s back, listening carefully.
"His breath sounds are completely clear," Harrison breathed, shaking his head. "His heart rhythm is perfectly regular. Nurse Jenkins... you've done something we couldn't achieve with two million dollars worth of equipment."
"He didn't need equipment, Dr. Harrison," Rachel said gently, her voice weary. "He needed a mother. Or at least... someone to stand in for one."
The door opened, and Daniel stepped back inside. He had changed into a clean black shirt, though his eyes were still dark with fatigue. He gestured toward Dr. Harrison.
"Doctor," Daniel said calmly. "Leave us."
Harrison bowed his head quickly and hurried out, leaving the two of them alone with the soft, steady hum of the heart monitor.
Daniel walked over and sat in the chair directly across from Rachel. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together.
"You look exhausted," Daniel observed quietly.
"I am," Rachel admitted, looking down at the baby. "NICU nursing isn't for the faint of heart. But he's doing better, Mr. Russo. If we keep him skin-to-skin for the next few days, his body will regulate itself."
"You saved him," Daniel said. It wasn't a question. It was a statement of fact.
"I just did my job."
"Nobody else in this hospital could do it," Daniel pointed out. He reached out slowly, his large, calloused fingers hovering over his son's tiny foot before gently touching the soft skin. The baby twitched slightly, but didn't wake. "Camille would have loved you for this."
At the mention of his late wife, a heavy silence fell over the room. Rachel looked at Daniel, seeing the profound, crushing grief that lay beneath his terrifying exterior. He wasn't just a mob boss; he was a man who had lost his world in a single second on Lake Shore Drive.
"I'm so sorry about your wife, Mr. Russo," Rachel said gently.
Daniel looked up, his grey eyes searching her face. "You don't know who I am, do you, Rachel?"
"I know you're Daniel Russo," she said quietly. "I know people are terrified of you. I know you own half the city." She paused, swallowing hard. "And I know your men control the debt on the South Side."
Daniel’s expression didn't change, but his eyes narrowed slightly. "Your brother."
Rachel’s heart dropped into her shoes. She gripped the baby a little tighter against her chest, her knuckles turning white. "You... you know about Tommy?"
"I know he owes fifty thousand dollars to my organization," Daniel said smoothly. "I know he gambled it away. And I know he has three days left before my collectors come for his life."
Tears sprang to Rachel’s eyes. "Please," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Please, Mr. Russo. He's stupid, and he's weak, but he's all the family I have left. I'm working extra shifts. I took out a loan. I will pay back every single penny, with interest. Just... please don't hurt him."
Daniel stared at her for a long, silent moment. He looked at the tears streaming down her pale cheeks, then down at his son sleeping peacefully against her bare heart.
"Your brother is currently sitting upstairs in my private suite," Daniel said calmly.
Rachel gasped, horror washing over her. "What?"
"My men picked him up an hour ago," Daniel continued. "Under normal circumstances, he would be at the bottom of the river by midnight."
Rachel began to sob silently, her shoulders shaking. "Please... no..."
"Listen to me, Rachel," Daniel said, his voice dropping into a deep, authoritative command that cut through her panic. "I didn't say he was dead. I said he was sitting upstairs. Unharmed."
Rachel blinked through her tears, looking at him in utter shock. "He's... he's alive?"
"He is alive because you are holding my son," Daniel said softly, reaching out and gently wiping a stray tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "Your brother's debt is cleared. Forgotten. Erased from my books."
Rachel stared at him, unable to process the words. "You're... you're forgiving fifty thousand dollars?"
"Fifty thousand dollars is pocket change to me, Rachel," Daniel said quietly. "My son's life is priceless. You gave me back my son tonight. In return, I give you back your brother."
Rachel let out a long, ragged breath, resting her forehead against the baby’s soft head as fresh tears of pure relief spilled onto the blanket. "Thank you... oh God, thank you, Mr. Russo..."
"There is one condition," Daniel added.
May you like
Rachel looked up, her pulse spiking again. "What condition?"
"You don't leave this room," Daniel said, his eyes locking onto hers with absolute intensity. "You move into the estate. You become Leo’s exclusive personal nurse until he is strong enough to go home. You name your price, Rachel. Anything you want. But my son needs you. And quite frankly... so do I."
