I Agreed to Marry a Six-Year-Old—Then Discovered His Father Was the Most Feared Mafia Boss in New York

The private surgical wing of Presbyterian Hospital had been locked down by thirty heavily armed Moretti soldiers.

No doctors, nurses, or orderlies entered or exited without having their retinas scanned and their pockets searched. Outside in the city, the night was ablaze with sirens; street whispers reported that the Bellini family compound in South Brooklyn had been reduced to smoking ash within two hours of the breach on the Hudson.

Inside the sterile, quiet private room, the only sound was the rhythmic, hollow *beep... beep... beep* of the cardiac monitor.

I drifted awake through layers of heavy, narcotic fog. My entire left shoulder felt as though it had been packed with crushed glass, but the agony was dull, held at bay by the intravenous drip feeding into my right arm.

I opened my eyes slowly, blinking against the soft yellow lamp light.

Sitting on a hard plastic chair beside the bed was Kian.

He hadn't changed his clothes. His white dress shirt was stained with dried, dark blood—my blood. His hair was disheveled, dark purple circles bruising the skin beneath his eyes, his jaw covered in three days’ worth of rough stubble. His massive hands were clasped together, his head bowed, his lips moving silently.

The most feared mob boss in the country was praying.

“Kian...” my voice was barely a dry croak.

His head snapped up.

When his bloodshot gray eyes met mine, a sound tore from his throat—a choked, ragged exhale of pure, unadulterated relief that seemed to empty his entire soul. He rose instantly, his knees hitting the side of the hospital bed as he took my uninjured right hand, bringing it to his lips. He kissed my knuckles, my palm, my wrist, his shoulders shaking with silent, suppressed sobs.

“You’re awake,” he breathed, his voice trembling violently. “God in heaven... you’re awake.”

“Zayn...” I gasped, panic flaring through the sedative haze. “Where is Zayn? Did they—?”

“He is safe,” Kian interrupted fiercely, his thumbs stroking my cheek with infinite gentleness. “He is in the next room with Mrs. Higgins, unharmed. Not a single scratch on him. Because of you.”

I relaxed against the pillows, closing my eyes as tears leaked down my temples. “Thank God.”

“The bullet went clean through your shoulder,” Kian murmured, his forehead resting against the edge of the mattress, his fingers clutching mine as if I were the only tether keeping him anchored to the earth. “Two inches to the right, and it would have hit your subclavian artery. You would have bled to death before I reached the room.”

I looked down at the dark, powerful man who had brought the entire criminal underworld to heel, now reduced to trembling vulnerability at my bedside.

“You came,” I whispered. “You saved us.”

Kian lifted his head, his silver eyes blazing with a mixture of profound guilt and terrifying, unyielding devotion.

“I almost killed you,” he said, his voice raw. “My world, my enemies, my sins... they almost destroyed you, Aurora. When I saw you on that floor, covered in blood... I realized that every dollar I own, every block of territory, every shred of power is completely worthless without you breathing beside me.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, opening it with trembling fingers.

Inside lay a platinum wedding band, etched with delicate ivy leaves and set with small, brilliant sapphires that matched the exact color of my eyes.

“I told you this was a contract,” Kian whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “I told you it was a strategy to protect my empire. I lied. From the moment you held that frying pan in the storage room and shielded my boy, you owned me, Aurora. You own my heart, my soul, my life, and every breath I have left.”

He picked up the ring, his eyes pleading with an intensity that took my breath away.

“Do not marry me for protection. Do not marry me because you have nowhere else to run. Marry me because you love a monster who would burn the world to ashes just to keep you warm.”

Tears blurred my vision. My heart, once so battered and traded like an unpaid debt, swelled with a love so fierce and absolute it banished every shadow of my past.

I lifted my trembling hand, offering my finger.