I was supposed to audit barcodes, not kiss a storm.
One night, no names—then a note on my windshield: tell the Santoros and the baby dies.
I disappear. I build new routines, new aliases, new ways to breathe.
Then infants start getting sick from counterfeit formula moving through the city I swore to protect. My oath drags me home… straight to Leo Santoro—the heir I shouldn’t want, the man who makes my pulse steady and my rules break.
He says he’s clean. The numbers say someone in his shadow isn’t.
And when a hospital night cracks us open—when a rare blood type writes the truth we kept hidden—our secret stops being mine alone.
Now it’s union horns, sodium lights, and a camera we aim at the right men.
We make a trap with receipts instead of bullets.
We stage a breakup to flush a mole—and vow at dawn to belong to what we’re building.
I’m a pharmacist with a spine of lists. He’s a prince choosing evidence over ego. Love is logistics. And we’re about to prove it.
If you like: protective mafia heirs, single-mom secret-baby twists, second chances that actually cost something, and heroines who weaponize competence… welcome aboard. ⛓��🚢🍼
What to expect
• Secret baby x protective mafia heir x single mom
• Forbidden love → second chance → guaranteed HEA (no cliffhanger, no cheating)
• Dual POV, high tension, slow-burn to steamy (consent on page; explicit but classy)
• Real stakes: counterfeit-medicine plot, union yard politics, receipts > bravado
''' Found family vibes, fierce boundaries, ‘love is logistics’ energy
Content notes (light, respectful)
Medical themes around infant safety; off-page kidnapping; on-page danger with non-graphic violence; trauma-aware care; justice without vigilante gore.
Standalone in the Secret City universe. Perfect for readers of dark-but-tender mafia romance who want heat, heart, and competence porn with their kisses.
‘I’ll choose the next right thing with you—even when it costs.’
Genre: Romance
One night, no names—then a note on my windshield: tell the Santoros and the baby dies.
I disappear. I build new routines, new aliases, new ways to breathe.
Then infants start getting sick from counterfeit formula moving through the city I swore to protect. My oath drags me home… straight to Leo Santoro—the heir I shouldn’t want, the man who makes my pulse steady and my rules break.
He says he’s clean. The numbers say someone in his shadow isn’t.
And when a hospital night cracks us open—when a rare blood type writes the truth we kept hidden—our secret stops being mine alone.
Now it’s union horns, sodium lights, and a camera we aim at the right men.
We make a trap with receipts instead of bullets.
We stage a breakup to flush a mole—and vow at dawn to belong to what we’re building.
I’m a pharmacist with a spine of lists. He’s a prince choosing evidence over ego. Love is logistics. And we’re about to prove it.
If you like: protective mafia heirs, single-mom secret-baby twists, second chances that actually cost something, and heroines who weaponize competence… welcome aboard. ⛓��🚢🍼
What to expect
• Secret baby x protective mafia heir x single mom
• Forbidden love → second chance → guaranteed HEA (no cliffhanger, no cheating)
• Dual POV, high tension, slow-burn to steamy (consent on page; explicit but classy)
• Real stakes: counterfeit-medicine plot, union yard politics, receipts > bravado
''' Found family vibes, fierce boundaries, ‘love is logistics’ energy
Content notes (light, respectful)
Medical themes around infant safety; off-page kidnapping; on-page danger with non-graphic violence; trauma-aware care; justice without vigilante gore.
Standalone in the Secret City universe. Perfect for readers of dark-but-tender mafia romance who want heat, heart, and competence porn with their kisses.
‘I’ll choose the next right thing with you—even when it costs.’
Genre: Romance
Used availability for Christin Wales's Secret Mafia Baby