THE MAFIA BOSS DISCOVERS HIS FIANCÉE'S SICK SECRET

The mansion was completely quiet for the first time in months.

Outside, the last of the police cruisers had pulled away, taking the Bellini family with them. The ruined white chairs on the lawn were already being dismantled by the groundskeepers.

I stood at the edge of the patio, my back to Luca.

“I need to pack my things, Mr. Moretti,” I said quietly, staring down at my dirty shoes. “Vanessa fired me last night. And even though she’s gone… my mother is awake by now. She’s going to be terrified if I’m not at the hospital to explain why your men are guarding her door.”

Luca walked slowly toward me.

He didn’t stop until he was standing just inches away. I could smell the faint scent of rain and leather clinging to his suit.

“Vanessa didn’t have the authority to fire you,” he said, his voice low and firm. “And my men aren’t just guarding your mother’s door today, Hannah. They’re moving her.”

I snapped my head up. “Moving her? To where?”

“To the private rehabilitation wing at St. Jude’s,” Luca replied smoothly. “The one with twenty-four-hour specialized nursing care. It’s already paid for.”

My jaw dropped. “Mr. Moretti, I can’t accept that. That’s hundreds of thousands of dollars. I could never work off that kind of debt.”

“It’s not a debt,” he corrected gently. He reached out, his warm, calloused fingers gently brushing a stray lock of dirt-streaked hair behind my ear. The touch sent a sudden, electric shock down my spine. “It’s an apology.”

I stared into his dark eyes, completely breathless.

“My family’s blind spot caused you and your mother four years of agony,” Luca continued, his gaze searching my face. “You came into this house to pay off a debt you never owed. You protected my mother. You saved my daughter’s life. You aren't leaving this house, Hannah. Not unless you want to.”

Before I could find the words to respond, a small hand tugged at the hem of my apron.

I looked down.

Sophie was standing there, holding a folded piece of white construction paper.

“Hannah?” she asked softly. “Are you really moving out?”

I knelt down to her eye level. “Oh, sweetie. I’m just a maid. Now that your family is safe, you don't need me anymore.”

Sophie frowned, her little brow furrowing. “But Grandma needs you to help her walk. And Daddy needs you.”

I felt a hot flush rise to my cheeks. I didn't dare look up at Luca.

“Daddy is very strong, Sophie,” I whispered. “He doesn't need my help.”

“Yes, he does,” Sophie insisted stubbornly. “He doesn't smile when you're not in the room.”

The absolute innocence of the statement hung in the air, heavy and undeniable.

Sophie pressed the folded paper into my hands. “I made this for you. While the police were here.”

She turned and ran back toward the kitchen to find her grandmother.

I slowly stood up, my fingers trembling slightly as I unfolded the paper.

It was another crayon drawing.

But this one didn’t have any black cars or red blood.

It was a drawing of the mansion. Standing in the front yard were four stick figures.

Teresa, leaning on her cane.

Sophie, wearing her yellow dress.

And right in the middle, holding both of Sophie’s hands, was a tall man in a black suit, and a woman with brown hair wearing a blue dress.

The man and the woman were holding hands.

Above the woman’s head, written in neat, careful letters, was my name.

I stared at the drawing, my heart hammering violently against my ribs.

I felt Luca step up behind me, looking over my shoulder at the paper.

“She’s a very observant artist,” Luca murmured, his deep voice vibrating right near my ear.

“She’s just… she’s just confused,” I stammered, my face burning. I tried to fold the paper back up, suddenly terrified of the boundary we were crossing. “I should go check on the laundry. The guest rooms are a mess.”

I practically ran into the house, desperate to escape the intense, suffocating heat of his gaze.

I hurried up the grand staircase and into the servants' quarters. I pushed open the door to my small, sparsely furnished room.

I needed to breathe. I needed to think.

I sat on the edge of my narrow twin bed, clutching the drawing to my chest.

Could he really want me to stay? Not as a maid… but as something else?

It was insane. He was a billionaire. A man who commanded armies of security guards. I was the daughter of the woman who accidentally crashed into his wife.

I took a deep breath and stood up to change out of my ruined uniform.

I pulled my thin white pillowcase off the bed to throw it in the wash.

But as the fabric slid off the pillow, something fell out and hit the wooden floor with a soft thud.

I froze.

It was a small, elegant black velvet box.

I knelt down and picked it up. My hands were shaking.

I hadn’t put this here.

I slowly opened the lid.

Resting on the white satin cushion was a breathtaking, vintage diamond ring.

Tucked behind the ring was a tiny, handwritten note.

The handwriting wasn’t Luca’s. It was elegant, looping, and distinctly feminine.