A feared Atlanta mob boss hadn't smiled in twenty years, until a poor single mom fell asleep holding his hand after saving his life.

Dominic, sensing movement near the threshold, turned his head slightly toward the door. His eyes met Nancy’s shocked gaze.

Instantly, Dominic’s expression returned to its usual composed state, though the lingering warmth in his eyes remained visible.

He turned back to Megan. Very gently, moving with incredible precision so as not to disturb her, Dominic slid his hand back, millimeter by millimeter, out of her soft grip.

Megan stirred slightly, letting out a soft sigh, but remained deeply asleep, her body exhausted from two days of constant caretaking. Leo snuggled closer to her chest, clutching his yellow blanket tighter.

Dominic took a slow, deep breath, sitting up further against his pillows.

Nancy pushed the heavy oak door open completely, stepping quietly into the bedroom. Her face was no longer filled with the quiet awe of a moment ago; instead, her expression had turned pale, grave, and deeply troubled.

She held a sleek, closed dark-blue document file in her left hand.

Dominic noticed the shift in her demeanor immediately. His instincts, sharpened by years of surviving dangerous power struggles, instantly flared to high alert.

Nancy walked silently across the thick carpet, stopping right beside the nightstand, avoiding eye contact with Megan.

She quietly placed the closed file onto the wood, right next to the untouched glass of orange juice.

Dominic looked up at his house manager, his dark brow furrowing.