A mute girl finds herself entwined with a powerful mafia billionaire who becomes dangerously obsessed with her.
Despite her silence, his intense feelings compel him to pursue her relentlessly, ultimately forcing her into a marriage she never desire...
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Lucien’s marble bathroom had been retrofitted with nonslip mats and a rubber ducky the size of a football.
Sorina knelt by the tub, swirling lavender oil into the water while Dominic banged a silicone shark against the faucet.
“Temperature’s .....not right....,” Lucien said, hovering with a digital thermometer.
Sorina rolled her eyes, flicking water at his sleeve. “He’s not a lab experiment.” She signed.
Dominic chose that moment to heave the shark overboard, drenching Lucien’s tailored slacks.
The baby froze, awaiting reprisal.
A beat. Then Lucien scooped a handful of bubbles and dropped them onto Dominic’s head like a frothy crown. “Strategic distraction. Effective.”
Dominic blinked, then erupted into giggles, smacking the water so hard it sloshed over the edge. Lucien’s lips twitched.
At 1:25 a.m., Sorina found Lucien at his steel-and-glass desk, reviewing merger documents.
Dominic was sprawled across his chest, one sticky fist clutching a half-eaten cozonac crumb smuggled from the kitchen.
“He was supposed to be in bed,” Sorina signed, suppressing a laugh.
Lucien didn’t look up. “He infiltrated the office. Crawled past three motion sensors. Impressive.”
Dominic burbled, throwing the cozonac on a page titled “ACQUISITION TARGETS – CONFIDENTIAL”
“Stop him,” Lucien ordered, making no move to do so.
Sorina snapped a photo with Lucien’s phone from the desk, keeping it as a memory.
In the morning.
Lucien’s library, a tomb of first editions and encrypted ledgers, now housed a pastel-colored shelf labelled “DOMINIC’S CORNER (TEMPORARY).”
Sorina sat cross-legged on a Persian rug, signing “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” while Dominic tried to eat the cardboard pages.
Lucien paused in the doorway, nostrils flaring at the clash of strawberry-scented baby wipes and mahogany polish. “This is a secured zone.”
“He likes the stained glass,” Sorina replied in sign language, pointing to sunlight fracturing through the window’s Thorne family crest, casting ruby dragons across Dominic’s cheeks
Lucien hesitated, then sat stiffly beside them.
Dominic immediately crawled into his lap, grabbing his tie like a reins.
“I’m not a pony,” Lucien muttered.
Sorina arched a brow. “Well....he thinks you are” she signed teasingly.
Lucien was halfway through a video call with Jakarta executives when tiny hands yanked his chair backwards.
Dominic, having escaped his playpen again, grinned up at him with a pacifier clamped sideways in his mouth.
“Security is incompetent,” Lucien hissed, scooping the baby one-handed while typing a shutdown code with the other.
Dominic seized the opportunity to attack his father’s tie knot, gnawing on the silk with teething fury.
“Ceasefire. Now,” Lucien ordered.
The baby responded by blowing a raspberry on his wrist.
Sorina, leaning against the doorframe, smiled while looking at them.
Next night....At 3 a.m., Sorina woke to an empty bassinet.
She found them in the penthouse’s rooftop greenhouse Lucien in a charcoal robe, Dominic swaddled in cashmere, both staring at a night-blooming cereus.
“He’s nocturnal. Like you,” Sorina signed, warmth blooming in her chest.
Lucien stiffened. “The flower’s pH levels are educational for kids...ah.. I know he doesnt understandany of them...but I like spending time with my little son, Sorina.”
Dominic sneezed, startling the bud into full bloom.
Lucien’s breath caught. For a moment, the three of them hovered in the silver-lit hush, petals trembling.
The next morning, Alejandro entered the kitchen to a surreal sight. Lucien, sleeves rolled up, attempting to flip a pancake while Dominic rode his hip like a tiny CEO.
Batter splattered the induction stove.
“The recipe didn’t seem that hard....”
“it is easy...pancakes are one of the easiest recipes,” Sorina signed, plopping blueberries into the mess to form a lopsided smiley face.
Dominic lunged for the pan, and Lucien against every instinct let him touch the (cooled) edge.
“What a mess!!,” Lucien declared, staring at the charred, blueberry-eyed pancake.
“Perfect,” Sorina corrected, tearing off a very small piece for Dominic.
The baby shoved it into his mouth, then offered a slobbery bite to Lucien.
