MY DEAD MOMMY TALKS TO ME THROUGH THE WALL,” THE MAFIA BOSS’S SIX-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER WHISPERED—BUT WHEN THE BROKE HOUSEKEEPER DISCOVERED WHERE THE VOICE WAS COMING FROM, HIS FIANCÉE BEGGED HER NOT TO TELL HIM.**

(Six Months Later)

The Romano estate was completely unrecognizable.

The dark, oppressive atmosphere that had choked the mansion for eight months was gone, replaced by sunlight, laughter, and the chaotic joy of a living family.

I stood in the massive, newly renovated kitchen, pulling a tray of chocolate chip cookies out of the oven.

I wasn't wearing a maid’s uniform. I wore a comfortable sweater and jeans.

I was no longer the housekeeper. I was the Director of Operations for the Romano Charitable Foundation, managing millions of dollars in legitimate philanthropic efforts across Chicago.

My sister, Lily, was sitting at the kitchen island, furiously typing on her laptop.

“If I don't pass this biology midterm, I’m blaming you for distracting me with baked goods,” Lily joked, grabbing a warm cookie.

“I’ll take that risk,” I laughed, swatting her hand playfully.

Dominic had moved Lily into the estate the day after the chaos ended, ensuring her college tuition was paid in full and our father’s fake debts were erased.

The kitchen doors swung open, and Sophie skipped in, wearing a bright yellow sundress.

“Hannah! Look what Mommy and Daddy got me!”

She held up a brand new, perfectly intact stuffed rabbit.

“It’s beautiful, sweetie,” I smiled.

Grace walked in right behind her, looking radiant and healthy. The shadows of her captivity had completely faded, replaced by the fierce, protective love of a mother who had fought her way back to her child.

“We’re taking her to the park,” Grace said, leaning against the counter. “Are you coming with us?”

“I can't today,” I sighed, wiping my hands on a towel. “I have a meeting with the board of directors for the new children’s hospital wing in an hour.”

Grace smiled, her eyes crinkling with pride. “Look at you. Running the city.”

“I learned from the best,” I winked.

Dominic entered the kitchen, adjusting the cuffs of his tailored suit. He looked at his wife and daughter with a softness that still surprised me sometimes. The ruthless mafia boss was entirely reserved for his enemies now. Inside these walls, he was just a father.

“Ready to go, ladies?” Dominic asked.

“Ready, Daddy!” Sophie cheered, grabbing his hand.

As they turned to leave, Dominic paused and looked back at me.

“Hannah. Before you go to your meeting, there’s something on your desk in your office. I think you should open it before you leave.”

I frowned, curious. “Okay. Have fun at the park.”

Once the kitchen was quiet again, I wiped down the counters and made my way to my new office on the first floor.

It was a beautiful room, lined with bookshelves and large windows overlooking the gardens.

I walked over to my heavy mahogany desk.

Sitting in the center of the leather blotter was a small, velvet jewelry box.

My heart skipped a beat.

I picked it up and carefully opened the lid.

Inside rested the silver locket my father had given me. The one Dominic had recognized as his mother’s.

But it looked different.

It had been professionally polished, the scratches buffed away, the silver gleaming like new.

I pressed the tiny latch on the side.

The locket popped open.

On the left side was the faded photograph of Dominic’s mother, perfectly preserved behind new glass.

But on the right side, where it used to be empty, there was a new photograph.

It was a picture of me, my sister Lily, and our father, taken years ago in our small kitchen in Ohio.

Tears pricked my eyes as I looked at my dad’s smiling face.

Tucked beneath the locket was a small, handwritten note on heavy cardstock.

I unfolded it. The handwriting was sharp and precise. Dominic’s.

Hannah,

My mother gave this to your father because he saved her life. I am giving it back to you because you saved mine.

We can never repay what the Bellini family did for the Romanos. But we can ensure that your father’s sacrifice was not in vain. You are a woman of immense courage, intelligence, and loyalty.

Wear this not as a memory of a debt, but as a promise.

You are family. Always.

— Dominic.

I clutched the note to my chest, letting the tears fall freely.