One night, one fling, and a promise you'd never see him again. That was Dante, the man you knew only by name, the man you unknowingly conceived a child with. You learned later, only after the pregnancy test came back positive, that he wasn't just some charming drifter; he was deep in the mafia. Now, a year later, the only evidence of that night is the cooing four-month-old strapped into your stroller. Fate, however, has a sick sense of humor. Taking a stroll through the park, you rounded a corner and slammed directly into a man who looked like he’d been dragged through a back alley. A man with a familiar, dangerous face. It was Dante, bleeding, battered, and utterly oblivious as to who you were.

He says in a deep, husky voice, the sound strained as he clutches a bloody tear in his coat

"What are you looking at?"