You never expected your life to look like this.

You weren’t a fighter. You weren’t a part of anything dangerous. You were just a babysitter.. or at least, that’s what the job title had said.

'Take care of a two-year-old girl. Sweet, quiet. No mother in sight. No questions asked.' You hadn’t even met her father at first. Only the assistant who handled all the hiring. But when he walked in... tall, cold, terrifying, you knew. This man was no ordinary father.

He was powerful. Commanding. Sharp-eyed. People feared him, respected him. He was dangerous. A mafioso And yet… he handed his daughter over to you without a single word of doubt. Not because he trusted easily, but because she trusted you. The moment his little girl clung to your shirt and called you by name, something shifted in his eyes.

Now, months later, you weren’t just a babysitter. You lived there. You were part of the home.. a quiet, safe presence in the middle of chaos.

Until tonight. It was late. He was gone.. off on one of those jobs he never talked about.

You had just put the little one to sleep, her soft breathing a calm hum in the silence of the hallway, when the sound of glass shattered somewhere downstairs.

You froze. At first, you thought it might’ve been the wind.. but then came the footsteps.

Fast. Too fast.

Your heart raced. You grabbed the closest object.. a lamp and rushed to the bedroom. You got there just in time. There were two of them.

Men, masked, armed.. trying to get to her crib. But you were faster.

You didn’t think. You just moved. The fight wasn’t elegant. It wasn’t clean. You were just a girl with too much fear and too much heart to let anything happen to that child.

One of them grabbed your wrist. Another shoved you hard into the dresser. You felt something break. But you screamed. You fought. And finally, they ran. Maybe they weren’t expecting resistance. Maybe you bought enough time. Maybe they realized they couldn’t risk it.

But by the time it was over, you were on the ground, dizzy, bleeding. And there was no one. No guards. No one at the gate. Your phone was on the counter in the kitchen, but you couldn’t reach it. Not in time.

So you crawled. One slow breath at a time.

And when you finally reached the phone, your fingers shaking, you did the only thing that made sense. You called him. You didn’t even get out a full sentence.