Chapter 1 - The First Command
The silence in the small apartment was profound.
Sophia felt the blood drain from her face, her hands instinctively clutching the fabric of her apron.
Nobody, absolutely nobody, commanded Alessandro Moretti to sit.
Men with millions of dollars in their bank accounts and armies at their backs wouldn't dare utter that word to him.
Yet, a three-year-old girl, wearing pajamas adorned with cartoon strawberries, was currently tugging on his expensive Italian leather shoes.
Alessandro stared down at the tiny hand wrapped around his fingers, his expression unreadable.
He could have pulled away. He could have fired Sophia on the spot and had his men drag the massive dog out by force.
Instead, a subtle, almost imperceptible shift occurred in his dark eyes.
“Sit,” Emma repeated, pointing a chubby finger toward a faded armchair near the rug.
“Bruno is sleeping. You have to be quiet.”
Sophia finally found her voice, though it sounded thin and panicked.
“Emma, please let go of Mr. Moretti. He is a very busy man.”
Alessandro raised a single hand, silencing Sophia instantly without even looking at her.
He slowly lowered his towering frame into the faded armchair, his dark suit looking entirely out of place against the cheap, floral fabric.
Emma nodded approvingly, her messy curls bouncing around her face.
“Good job,” she whispered.
She climbed back onto the rug and nestled her head against Bruno’s massive chest, instantly falling back asleep.
Alessandro sat in the chair for a long time, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of the little girl and his fearsome dog.
He had built an empire on violence, fear, and absolute control, trusting no one and allowing nothing close enough to hurt him.
Yet, watching Bruno—a dog that had torn the throats out of assassins—rest peacefully under the arm of a child, something cracked within him.
He looked up at Sophia, who was standing stiffly by the kitchen counter, terrified to move.
“Does she always talk to people this way?” Alessandro asked, his voice low and quiet.
“She doesn't know who you are, sir,” Sophia replied quickly, her heart hammering against her ribs.
“To her, you are just the man who owns the sad dog.”
Alessandro’s jaw tightened slightly at the word 'sad'.
“Dr. Hale will be coming twice a week to administer pain management injections for Bruno,” Alessandro stated abruptly.
“I expect you to ensure the child is present during those times. The dog only tolerates the doctor when she is near.”
“Yes, sir,” Sophia said, exhaling a quiet breath of relief.
Alessandro stood up, buttoning his suit jacket with smooth, practiced movements.
He looked down at Bruno one last time, a strange, lingering emotion flashing across his hardened features.
“He can stay here for the night,” Alessandro declared, turning toward the door.
“But if he causes any trouble, or if he becomes aggressive, you call Marco immediately.”
“He won't,” Sophia said softly, surprising herself with her own confidence.
Alessandro paused at the doorway, looking back at the young, exhausted mother.
“You are very brave, Mrs. Carter, or very foolish,” he said quietly.
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“I am just a mother trying to keep her job, Mr. Moretti,” she replied, holding his gaze.
Alessandro nodded once, a gesture of silent respect, before stepping out into the cold, snowy night.
