The Mafia Boss Came Home to Find His Fiancée Beating the New Maid, but the Maid’s Silence Was Hiding the One Debt He Could Never Buy His Way Out Of

Back at the Lake Michigan estate, the storm outside had intensified, lashing sheets of freezing rain against the reinforced glass windows. Inside, the conservatory was warm, lit only by the amber glow of a massive stone fireplace.

I sat on the velvet sofa, pulling my knees up to my chest. The adrenaline of the docks had finally worn off, leaving behind a hollow, shivering exhaustion.

Dominic walked in carrying a crystal tumbler of amber whiskey and a cup of chamomile tea. He set the whiskey down on the marble coffee table and sat beside me, handing me the tea.

"You were reckless tonight," Dominic said quietly, though there was no anger in his voice—only a deep, lingering worry.

"I had to be," I murmured, wrapping my hands around the warm ceramic mug. "If I hid behind you, Victor would have won. He would have planted the seed that I was your weakness. A mafia boss can't afford a weakness, Dominic."

Dominic turned on the couch, facing me fully. He reached out, gently taking the mug from my hands and setting it aside, then caught my chin in his fingers, forcing me to look up into his dark, intense eyes.

"Listen to me very carefully, Claire," he said, his voice fierce and unyielding. "You are not my weakness. You are my anchor. Without you, I was a ghost wandering through a burning house, waiting for someone to finish the job. You brought my daughter back to me. You brought me back."

Before I could answer, a soft patter of barefoot steps sounded on the marble floor.

We both looked over. Audrey stood at the entrance of the conservatory, rubbing her eyes with the back of her small hand, clutching Noodle tightly against her chest. She looked tired, the shadows under her big, expressive eyes reminding us both of the nightmare she had survived.

Dominic immediately stood up, walking over and kneeling down in front of her.

Is the bad man gone? Audrey signed slowly, her small fingers trembling slightly.

Dominic gently placed his large hands over hers, halting their trembling. He smiled—a rare, gentle smile that only his daughter ever got to see.

He’s gone, little bird, Dominic signed back, his movements practiced and tender. He’s never coming back. Claire and I made sure of it.

Audrey looked past her father, her eyes locking onto me where I sat on the sofa. She walked across the room, climbed onto the couch, and curled up right beside me, resting her head against my shoulder.

Can we sleep here tonight? she signed, her eyelids drooping. Together?

I wrapped my arms around her small frame, feeling the steady, calming rhythm of her breathing. I looked up at Dominic, who sat down on the other side of us, pulling both of us into his strong, protective embrace.

"Together," I whispered out loud, and then translated it into sign language for her.