A cold-hearted mafioso subdued by a baby.

A cold-hearted mafioso subdued by a baby.

Protected by a hospital gown, Braston followed the doctor to the nursery. Upon entering that warmly cozy environment, a shiver ran down his spine. It was unlike anything he had ever seen. The incessant crying of the infants echoed like torture in his ears. He wanted to flee, but forced himself to stay.

The nurse guided him to an incubator, where a tiny, pale being struggled to breathe with the help of a machine. Braston averted his gaze from the other children, unable to bear the fragility of that miniature life.

"He's doing fine," the doctor said with a tender smile, noticing Braston's discomfort. "He'll need this machine for 24 hours, after that, you can hold him in your arms."

"I prefer not to touch him," Braston replied coldly, surprising everyone. His aversion to that environment was evident.

"In that case, I'll let him talk to the baby. He's small, but he recognizes his father's voice," suggested the doctor, frowning in disbelief. Brasto