THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED MY HAND SHAKE AS I POURED CHAMPAGNE AT HIS ENGAGEMENT DINNER—THEN HIS FIANCÉE SAID, “SHE BURNED HERSELF ON THE KITCHEN STOVE,” BEFORE HE HAD EVEN ASKED WHY I WAS WEARING ONE WHITE GLOVE.**

“Drop the gun, Elena.”

Dominic’s voice was lethal. A dozen laser sights painted red dots across Elena’s white gown.

But her hand didn’t shake. Her eyes were wild, fixed solely on me.

“Thirty-one years,” she hissed, her voice echoing in the silent foyer. “I clawed for every inch of respect in this family. I played the dutiful daughter, the perfect fiancée. And the whole time, my father was saving the crown for a peasant.”

“He saved it for his blood,” Dominic said. “You were adopted, Elena. You were loved. But you chose greed.”

“Love?” She laughed bitterly. “He gave her mother the Isabella Diamond! He gave me an allowance!”

Her finger tightened on the trigger.

“I won’t let you take it,” Elena screamed at me. “I won’t let a maid take my house!”

A gunshot rang out.

I flinched, closing my eyes, waiting for the burning pain in my chest.

But it never came.

Instead, a sharp clatter echoed on the marble floor.

I opened my eyes.

Elena’s silver pistol was on the ground. She was clutching her bleeding right hand, screaming in agony.

Standing in the doorway, smoke still drifting from the barrel of his rifle, was Michael Grant.

He had survived the hangar. He had never been captured at all.

Dominic’s men swarmed the stairs, pinning Elena to the ground and zip-tying her wrists. She kicked and sobbed, her perfect facade entirely shattered.

“Get her out of my house,” Dominic ordered.

As they dragged Elena away, the heavy silence returned to the grand estate.

Dominic walked toward me. He looked at my shaking hands, then gently placed his hands over mine, steadying them.

“It’s over,” he said softly.

I let out a breath I felt like I had been holding for three years.

Tommy and Leo walked through the front doors.

Leo’s eyes went wide as he looked at the massive chandelier and the sweeping staircase.

“Auntie Grace,” the little boy whispered. “Is this a castle?”

I smiled through my tears and knelt down to his level. “It’s just a big house, baby. You’re safe now. Nobody is ever going to hurt you again.”

Dominic turned to Tommy.

“Mr. Miller,” Dominic said respectfully. “I owe you an apology. My family’s war almost cost you yours.”

Tommy looked at Dominic, then at me. He had figured it out in the van. He knew the truth about our parentage now.

Tommy stepped forward and pulled me into a fierce embrace.

“Blood doesn’t make a family,” Tommy whispered in my ear. “I raised you. You’re my sister. Always.”

“Always,” I sobbed, burying my face in his shoulder.

Dominic cleared his throat. “There is a guest suite in the east wing. It’s secure. You and your son will stay there tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll set you up with a house, a trust fund, whatever you need.”

Tommy nodded. “Thank you.”

As a maid led Tommy and Leo upstairs, Dominic turned to me.

“And what about you, Grace?” he asked. “You own half of everything you see. This house. The company. The accounts.”

I looked around the massive, cold foyer.

For three years, I had scrubbed these floors. I had polished that chandelier. I had been invisible.

“I don’t want it,” I said.

Dominic raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want a billion-dollar empire?”

“I want peace,” I said firmly. “I want Tommy and Leo to be safe. I want to go back to school. I want a normal life.”

I reached up and unclasped the silver locket from my neck.

I placed it in Dominic’s hand.

“Take the key,” I said. “Get the Isabella Diamond. Keep the estate. Just promise me that my family will never have to look over our shoulders again.”

Dominic looked at the locket in his palm.

Then he looked at me.

“I promise,” he said.

For the first time since I met him, Dominic Caruso smiled. A real, genuine smile.

He pulled me into a gentle hug. It felt strange, hugging the mafia boss who used to terrify me. But he wasn’t a boss right now. He was my brother.

“Go get some sleep, Grace,” he whispered. “You’re home.”

I walked up the sweeping staircase, no longer a maid, but an equal.

I went into the guest suite, where Leo was already fast asleep in a massive feather bed, clutching a silk pillow. Tommy was sitting in a chair nearby, watching over him.

I sat on the edge of the bed and closed my eyes.

We had survived.

But down in the study, Dominic was sitting at his desk, staring at the silver locket.

He opened it. He took out the brass key.

Then he pulled a heavy, leather-bound journal from his desk drawer. His father’s personal diary.

Dominic flipped to the last page.