Stay at least a week. Mariana opened her eyes in surprise. What? No, I’m here for him, said Alessandro, pointing to the baby sleeping in his arms. I need you to help me stabilize his feeding.
You can leave later. I promise. Mariana hesitated a lot. Her life was in pieces and the idea of staying in the mansion of a man like Alessandro Manceli seemed like absolute madness.
But when she looked at the baby, her decision was inevitable. One week, she finally said, just one. Alessandro exhaled as if he’d been holding his breath. I’ll put it in a contract. Everything will be clear.
Mariana nodded cautiously. What she didn’t know was that that week would change everything, that this temporary agreement was the beginning of a bond from which there was no turning back. The following days became a strange routine within Villa Manceli.
Mariana lived in a spacious, bright room, right next to the nursery, where she attended to Aleio’s needs immediately. Every three hours, regardless of the time of day, Mariana would quietly get up, go to the baby, and feed him.
And each time Alessandro was close, not invading her, not pressuring her, just there, sitting in a chair at the back of the room, silently watching as his son returned to calm in the arms of that woman who, without knowing it, was giving them back their lives.
Sometimes, after feeding Alecio, Mariana would leave him on her chest for a while so they could have skin-to-skin contact. And although she wouldn’t admit it aloud, that contact also healed something inside her.
One night, while the baby was fast asleep, Mariana settled him in the crib and turned to Alessandro, who hadn’t stopped watching them. “He’s getting better,” she said with a small smile.
He doesn’t struggle as much at the beginning anymore. “Thanks to you,” he replied in a low, almost reverent voice. Mariana lowered her gaze. She wasn’t used to receiving gratitude, much less from someone like Alessandro Manceli.
“I’m just taking care of a baby.” That’s all. She whispered. But Alessandro gently shook his head. “You’re not saving my son. There’s a difference.” His words made her shudder. Mariana decided to change the subject.
Why does she need me so much? he asked. Why does she reject everything else? Alessandro took a deep breath because the last thing he felt before Bianca died was her chest, her scent, her warmth.
For him, that connection is life, and when he lost it, he broke just like I did. Mariana felt a lump in her throat. “I’m so sorry,” she said sincerely. “I know what it’s like to lose someone.”
This shouldn’t happen to anyone. Alessandro stared at her for a long time with an intensity that made her tremble. “I know you know,” he replied. By the fourth day, the mansion no longer seemed so cold to her.
Rosalinda treated her with respect. Some staff members were grateful. Renzo, though always serious, assessed everything with a protective gaze, but she too felt watched, not uncomfortably, but as if everyone in Villa Manceli understood something supernatural about her presence.
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