Mafia Baby Daddy

Esperanza's POV

Two AM at Brooklyn General Hospital, and the hallway lights were flickering like dying fireflies. I leaned back in the chair at the nurses' station, one hand supporting my lower back, the other gently stroking my noticeably rounded belly.

Five months along. My stomach grew bigger every day, and night shifts were becoming hell.

"Esperanza Morales! Emergency in the VIP ward!" Nurse Supervisor Sarah Chen's voice crackled through the intercom. "Some big shot got himself shot, and there's a bunch of men in black surrounding the hospital! Move it!"

What? I bolted upright from the chair, nearly throwing out my back.

Big shot? Men in black surrounding the hospital? Oh God, please don't let it be...

"Sarah, who exactly is this big shot—"

"Don't ask! Word is it's some Italian family boss, even the FBI showed up! Get moving, they specifically asked for our best nurse!"

Italian family... My heart started racing erratically. In this part of Brooklyn, when people mentioned Italian families, everyone knew what that meant.

The Mafia.

I grabbed my medical bag in a hurry, my pregnant belly making me clumsy as the strap nearly caught on the chair leg. Damn it, why was I so awkward?

Walking toward the VIP ward, I saw the hallway packed with men in black suits—all tall and imposing, with telltale bulges under their jackets. Guns.

I swallowed hard. Esperanza, you're just a nurse. Save lives, heal people. Don't overthink this.

But when I pushed open the door to the private room, the entire world stopped spinning.

That face...

"No, impossible..." The words fell from my lips as my medical bag crashed to the floor, instruments scattering everywhere.

The man lying in the hospital bed was the same man I'd dumped four months ago—Dante Santangelo.

His face was pale, his left shoulder wrapped in bandages already soaked with blood. But even like this, he was still devastatingly handsome, still... dangerous.

Four months ago when we broke up, I thought he was just some ordinary law student. Now I understood—the VIP room, these bodyguards, this scale of operation...

Jesus Christ, Dante was Mafia.

I instinctively stepped back, wanting to turn and run. But my belly... if he saw it...

"Oh darling, are you alright?" A voice interrupted my panic.

A young woman turned from beside the bed. She was impossibly beautiful—blonde hair perfectly pinned up, wearing what had to be an expensive Chanel little black dress, a diamond necklace sparkling at her throat under the lights.

She held Dante's hand with concern. "The doctor said the bullet just grazed you, but you lost quite a bit of blood..."

She looked at me, confusion flickering in her eyes. "Dante, do you know this nurse? She looks quite shocked."

I held my breath. Time seemed frozen.

Dante's eyes slowly turned to me, and in that instant, I saw shock, pain, but most of all... anger. Quickly, his face turned to cold stone.

"No. I don't know her."

Those words stabbed into my heart like a knife.

"I'm Esperanza Morales, emergency room nurse," I managed to keep my voice professional. "Here to treat your wound."

The blonde woman smiled gracefully. "I'm Caterina Barone, Dante's fiancée. Thank you so much, Nurse Morales."

Fiancée.

The word exploded in my brain like a bomb. I nearly lost my balance, quickly grabbing the bedside table for support.

Caterina Barone... the Barone family... I'd heard that name on the news. Another Italian powerhouse family.

So this was an arranged marriage. Four months ago I dumped him, and now he was marrying this woman who looked like a perfect princess.

I bent down to collect the scattered medical instruments, mainly to hide the expression on my face. Damn it, why did the tears have to come now?

When I straightened up, I met Dante's gaze directly. His eyes swept over my body, then stopped at my slightly protruding belly.

His eyes widened instantly, his face growing even paler. "You're... pregnant?"

Those three words made the air in the room solidify.

I instinctively used my medical bag to shield my stomach, stepping back. "That's none of your business, sir. I'm here to change your dressing."

Dante's expression turned thunderous.

Caterina looked curiously between me and Dante's reaction. "What's wrong, darling? You look terrible."

"Nothing." Dante quickly regained his composure, but I saw his hands clench into fists, knuckles white. "Just surprised to see a pregnant nurse working night shifts."

"Oh, you're so thoughtful to worry." Caterina gently stroked his cheek. "You always care about others."

I nearly gagged. Not from morning sickness—from disgust.

I approached the bed, taking out antiseptic cotton and ointment. As I got closer, that familiar cologne mixed with the faint scent of blood hit me—a smell that once intoxicated me, now tore at my heart.

My hands started trembling uncontrollably.

Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to be professional, carefully beginning to clean the wound on his forehead. But the moment the cotton touched his skin, he suddenly grabbed my wrist.

His hand was burning hot, his grip nearly painful enough to make me cry out.

"Steady." Dante's cold reprimand cut through the air. "Don't you DARE shake."

"Sorry." I whispered, forcing my hands to stabilize.

Caterina stood up, gracefully smoothing her dress. "Dante, I'll go get you something to eat. The doctor said you need light food."

Dante nodded, but his eyes never left me.

"I'll be right back, okay?" She bent down to kiss his forehead. "The nurse will take good care of you."

After she left the room, leaving just the two of us, the air suddenly became suffocating.

I could feel Dante staring at me, but I didn't dare look up.

After several minutes of silence, he finally spoke:

"Esperanza."

His voice was soft, but in the quiet room it sounded crystal clear.

My hands stopped moving. Four months—this was the first time he'd said my name.

But I still didn't look up.

"Look at me."

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, then slowly raised my head.

His eyes held too many complex emotions—anger, pain, and something I couldn't read.

"We need to talk."