My Brutal Mafia Fiancé Refused to Touch Me, but When the Maid’s Toddler Stuck a Lucky Star on His Lapel, a Deadly 4-Year-Old Secret Blew the Family Apart

"Sophie," Dante called out, his stern tone failing to disguise the slight softening around his mouth.

The little girl didn't hesitate; she pushed the massive door wide open and skipped across the priceless Persian rug in her canvas sneakers.

Marcus watched in absolute astonishment as the toddler walked straight past him, completely unbothered by his imposing presence.

She stopped beside Dante's leather armchair, holding up her sheet of stickers like an artist presenting a masterpiece.

"Today is purple," Sophie declared, pointing to a glittery five-pointed shape. "Purple is for important papers."

Marcus let out a dry, incredulous chuckle. "She's certainly got you figured out, boss."

Dante ignored his adviser, leaning down until Sophie could reach his collar.

With sticky, clumsy fingers, she peeled the purple star from its plastic backing and pressed it firmly right beside the gold constellation already on his wool coat.

"There," she said with deep satisfaction. "Now your papers will be lucky."

"Sophie!" Anna's panicked voice came from the hallway, followed quickly by the woman herself rushing into the room.

Anna stopped dead in her tracks, her face turning pale as she noticed both Dante and Marcus standing together.

"I turned my back for two seconds to fetch the duster, Mr. Moretti," Anna pleaded, wringing her hands in her apron. "Sophie, come here right this second!"

Before Sophie could take a step, the heavy click of designer stilettos echoed outside the corridor.

Isabella Russo strode into the library wearing an ivory cashmere coat, oversized sunglasses pushed atop her styled raven hair, and a diamond bracelet flashing on her wrist.

She froze at the scene before her: the feared head of the Moretti family kneeling beside a maid's toddler while another woman stood trembling in the center of the study.

"What is the meaning of this circus?" Isabella snapped, her sharp voice slicing through the morning calm.

She marched into the room, her eyes darting between Anna's gray housekeeping uniform and Dante's decorated lapel with pure disgust.

"Dante, why are these servants constantly loitering in your private office?" Isabella demanded, tossing her designer bag onto the desk.

"They are not loitering, Isabella," Dante replied coldly, rising to his feet and towering over his fiancée. "And you did not announce your arrival."

"I am your fiancée! I don't need an appointment to visit my future home!" Isabella sneered, turning her venomous gaze onto Anna.

"And you," Isabella stepped toward Anna, her chin tilted high. "Get this filthy brat out of here before I have Henry throw all your belongings onto the street."

Sophie shrank back, hiding her face against Dante's trouser leg, her small fingers clutching the dark wool in sudden terror.

Anna’s eyes flashed with a sudden, fierce maternal fire, stepping forward to pull her daughter away from Isabella's path.

In her haste, Anna's elbow clipped an antique porcelain teacup sitting on the silver side table, sending it crashing onto the hardwood floor in a shower of shattered ceramic.