99Every Woman Fled the Mafia Boss Before Dawn, but the Poor Maid Fell Asleep in His Arms and Woke the Secret That Could Destroy Him

At two o'clock the following afternoon, three dark SUVs pulled up outside the closed rear entrance of the decommissioned St. Jude's Memorial Hospital in Queens.

The rain was heavy, blurring the grey skyline.

Cassian stepped out of the lead vehicle, wearing a long black coat over his suit, his hand resting on the holster beneath his arm. Leo and four heavily armed guards formed a defensive perimeter around him.

Noel stepped out beside Cassian, wearing a warm coat he had purchased for her that morning.

"You should have stayed in the car, Noel," Cassian said, looking down at her with intense concern.

"I know the hospital filing code structure, Cassian," Noel insisted, her voice firm and resolute. "You need me to find the specific archival drawer in the sub-basement."

Cassian looked at her brave face, touched her jaw gently, and nodded. "Stay behind Leo at all times."

They entered through the rusting service doors, navigating the dark, abandoned hallways of the hospital.

They descended two flights of stairs into the subterranean records department—a massive room filled with thousands of metal filing cabinets covered in dust and cobwebs.

Noel led the way, using a high-powered flashlight to read the brass plaque codes on the cabinets.

"Here," Noel pointed to a heavy steel safe built into the rear concrete wall. "Archive 404-B. This was your sister-in-law's private administrative vault."

Cassian pulled out the silver key he had carried over his heart for six years.

He inserted it into the safe's keyhole, turned it 180 degrees, and pulled the heavy door open.

Inside lay a thick, leather-bound book stamped with the Moretti family crest.

Cassian picked up the ledger, flipping through the pages filled with names, dates, offshore accounts, and execution orders.

A dark, triumphant smile touched his lips.

"We have it," Cassian declared. "This ends the Moretti reign forever."

CLICK.

The sound of twenty heavy gun bolts clearing echoed through the cavernous basement room.

Floodlights suddenly flared to life from the top of the concrete stairs, blinding Cassian's team.

Stepping down the stairs, flanked by fifteen men armed with assault rifles, was Don Vittorio Moretti—a cruel, silver-haired man in his sixties with eyes like a cold reptile.

"Thank you, Cassian," Vittorio sneered, his voice echoing menacingly. "I spent six years looking for that damn book. I knew if I squeezed your organization enough, you'd eventually lead me right to it."

Leo and Cassian’s guards immediately drew their weapons, shielding Cassian and Noel behind a heavy concrete pillar.

"Vittorio," Cassian spat, his voice dropping into a lethal, terrifying register. "You walk out of here now, or I bleed you where you stand."

Vittorio laughed, a dry, hideous sound.

"You don't have the high ground, boy," Vittorio taunted. "And I see you brought a lovely little guest with you."

Vittorio’s eyes locked onto Noel standing behind Cassian.

"Who is she?" Vittorio mused wickedly. "The new maid who sleeps in your bed? My spies told me about her, Cassian. They told me you soft-hearted fool actually fell in love with a penniless hotel worker."