The Little Girl Under My Desk Called My Dead Wife Mommy

Everyone at the billionaire charity gala treated Dante Moretti's autistic son like an embarrassment. Everyone except me. I was just a waitress trying to survive another exhausting shift when I saw eight-year-old Leo trembling beneath the grand staircase, overwhelmed by the noise and cruel whispers around him. I knelt beside him and gently tapped the marble floor four times. I never expected him to respond. And I certainly never expected his father—the most feared mafia boss in New York—to order his guards to investigate me. But when Dante tried to send me away, Leo grabbed my apron and whispered: **"Daddy, please don't make her go. She's the only one who asked me what I needed."** One unexpected moment brought me into the Moretti family's world. Behind Dante's ruthless reputation, I discovered a lonely father desperate to understand his son. And behind Leo's quiet eyes was a little boy who simply wanted someone to listen. I never intended to fall for a dangerous man. I never imagined loving his son like my own. But sometimes, the family you never knew you needed is the one that chooses you first. **His son chose me. But would his father ever let himself love me?**