The Maid’s Toddler Copied the Mafia Boss’s Angry Face—His Reaction Made Everyone Laugh!
Chapter 2
By the end of the week, Leo had developed a new game.
Whenever Vincent walked into a room, Leo became Vincent.
Tiny serious face.
Tiny crossed arms.
Tiny slow footsteps.
The first time he did it in the dining room, Vincent stopped halfway through breakfast.
Leo stared.
Vincent stared back.
Then Leo slowly lifted one eyebrow.
The entire table went silent.
Vincent sighed.
“You’re doing it again.”
Leo nodded.
“Boss.”
One of Vincent’s guards laughed into his coffee.
Vincent pointed at him.
“Leave.”
The man immediately stood.
“Yes, boss.”
Leo pointed too.
“Leave.”
The guard almost tripped trying to get out.
I covered my face.
“I’m sorry.”
Vincent looked at me.
“You’re encouraging him.”
“I am not.”
Leo copied my serious expression too.
Vincent almost smiled.
“You’re both dangerous.”
I smiled.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Vincent returned to his breakfast.
But something had changed.
He started noticing Leo.
Not as my son.
As a person.
He asked whether Leo had eaten.
Whether he was warm.
Whether he had slept.
He even remembered that Leo hated carrots.
That surprised me.
Vincent Blackwood could remember thousands of financial transactions.
Names.
Vehicles.
Weapons.
Safe houses.
But he remembered which vegetables a toddler refused to eat.
I began to see a different side of him.
Then one afternoon, Leo followed Vincent into the library.
I was cleaning nearby.
Vincent was reading a file.
Leo climbed onto the chair beside him.
Vincent looked down.
“What do you want?”
Leo pointed at the file.
“No.”
Leo pointed harder.
“No.”
Leo stared at him.
Vincent stared back.
Leo copied his angry face.
Vincent sighed.
“Fine.”
He moved the file away.
Leo looked at the blank paper beneath it.
Then reached for a pencil.
Vincent handed it to him.
Leo drew a crooked circle.
“This is a house,” he announced.
Vincent looked at it.
“That’s terrible.”
I laughed.
Leo frowned at Vincent.
Then copied his angry face.
Vincent froze.
“I didn’t mean you.”
Leo didn’t care.
He drew another line.
“What is that?”
“Mommy.”
Vincent pointed to the next shape.
“And me?”
Leo nodded.
“And you?”
Leo drew a third circle.
“Boss.”
Vincent looked at me.
I shrugged.
“He likes you.”
“That is becoming obvious.”
Leo looked up.
“Boss sad.”
Vincent’s expression changed.
“What?”
Leo pointed to Vincent.
“Sad.”
I stopped cleaning.
Children often said things without understanding them.
But Leo wasn’t smiling.
He was studying Vincent.
“Why does he think you’re sad?” I asked.
Vincent looked at the toddler.
“I don’t know.”
Leo reached over and touched his hand.
Vincent didn’t pull away.
For a moment, the intimidating mafia boss simply sat there holding a toddler’s tiny fingers.
Then Leo said,
“Mommy sad too.”
My heart sank.
Vincent looked at me.
“What does he mean?”
I swallowed.
“Nothing.”
“Maria.”
“I said nothing.”
Vincent’s expression hardened.
He knew I was hiding something.
That evening, he called me into his office.
“Sit.”
I did.
He closed the door.
“You’re afraid of me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re Vincent Blackwood.”
He almost smiled.
“Fair.”
“But I also work here.”
“And?”
“I don’t know what you’re asking.”
He sat down.
“Your son said something today.”
I stared.
“He said you were sad.”
I looked away.
Vincent continued.
“Why?”
“Because his father left.”
Vincent was silent.
“I’m sorry.”
I nodded.
“He doesn’t remember him.”
“Does he ask?”
“Sometimes.”
Vincent looked down.
Then asked,
“What happened?”
I hesitated.
“He left when Leo was six months old.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Vincent’s eyes sharpened.
“You don’t know?”
“He disappeared.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“No.”
“Did he owe anyone money?”
I looked at him.
“Yes.”
Vincent became very still.
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
He leaned forward.
“Maria, what was his name?”
I couldn’t answer.
Because I had never told anyone that Leo’s father had once worked for the Blackwood organization.
And if Vincent discovered the truth…
everything could change.
