CHAPTER 6
By noon the following day, a private, unmarked helicopter transported Maya and Dante far away from the damaged Westchester estate to an exclusive penthouse compound in Manhattan.
The penthouse occupied the entire top three floors of a newly constructed, heavily fortified glass skyscraper overlooking the sparkling expanse of the Hudson River.
Unlike the dusty, oppressive Sterling family mansion where Maya had spent her life as a hidden servant, this space was filled with warm sunlight, plush cream carpets, and panoramic city views.
A team of top-tier private physicians and nutritionists was waiting in the primary suite, immediately establishing a customized, gentle recovery plan for Maya and her baby.
"She needs absolute quiet, high-iron nutrition, and zero emotional strain for the next six weeks," the lead obstetrician declared after conducting a thorough examination. "The pregnancy is viable, but her body has suffered significant trauma over the past year."
Dante stood near the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, listening intently to every single word while his personal assistants organized a mountain of fresh designer maternity clothing.
"She will want for nothing," Dante informed the medical team, signing a stack of blank checks without even looking at the figures. "If she so much as mentions a craving or a discomfort, I expect it addressed within five minutes."
When the doctors finally departed, Maya sat on the edge of the plush king-sized bed, wearing a soft cashmere sweater that felt like a cloud against her healing skin.
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She looked at Dante, who was casually unbuttoning his cuffs, feeling a profound, overwhelming confusion about why this feared crime lord was pouring millions into her survival.
"Why are you doing all of this, Dante?" she asked softly, her voice barely carrying across the vast, sunlit master bedroom. "I'm just the illegitimate secret they kept hidden in the attic."
