A three-year-old girl destroyed the birthday cake of one of New York’s most feared mafia boss’s sons—and for several terrifying seconds, everyone thought my daughter had just made the worst mistake of her life. Then Lily pointed toward the kitchen and whispered, “A man touched Ethan’s cake,” and Dominic Moretti’s fury turned into something far more frightening.

By seven in the evening, a heavy rainstorm rolled over Westchester, washing the high glass windows of the master wing with long, grey streams of water.

The children were asleep. Ethan and Lily had exhausted themselves playing hide-and-seek in the wide corridors, eventually curling up together on the large sofa in the media room under a fleece blanket.

I stood on the covered terrace, listening to the thunder rumble across the valley, holding a warm mug of chamomile tea in my hands.

"You'll catch a cold out here."

I turned to see Dominic stepping onto the terrace. He had stripped off his suit jacket and tie, wearing only a dark grey silk shirt with the top two buttons undone.

"I like the rain," I said softly, turning back to watch the storm. "It makes the world feel quiet."

Dominic walked up beside me, resting his arms on the stone railing. "Valenti is gone. His captains surrendered his territories in Brooklyn an hour ago without firing a single shot."

I looked up at him, relief washing over me. "So it's really over?"

"The threat to Ethan is gone," Dominic said, turning his head to look at me. "Which means you and Lily are completely safe now."

I looked down at my tea, feeling a sudden, unexpected pang of sadness in my chest. "Does that mean... we should move back to the staff wing tomorrow?"

Silence stretched between us, heavy and charged with unspoken emotions.

Dominic reached out, taking the warm mug from my hands and setting it on the small glass table nearby. Then, his hands came up to grasp my waist, pulling me gently but firmly toward him until there was no space left between us.

"Do you want to move back to the staff wing, Maya?" he asked, his voice low and raspy.

"I... I don't know," I breathed, my hands resting instinctively against his hard chest. "I'm just a housekeeper, Dominic. This world... your world... it's dangerous."

"My world was dark and empty before you and your daughter walked into this wing," Dominic murmured, leaning down until his lips were resting just millimeters from mine. "You saved my son. But you also saved me."

"Dominic..."

"Stay here," he whispered against my lips. "Not as my housekeeper. As mine."

Before I could answer, he closed the tiny distance between us, pressing his lips to mine in a deep, powerful kiss that took my breath away. It wasn't gentle; it was hungry, possessive, and full of a desperate passion that had been building between us for days.

I gasped into his mouth, my fingers entangling in his thick dark hair as I pulled him closer, surrendering completely to the heat radiating between us.

When he finally pulled back, his breathing was heavy, his dark eyes burning into mine with an intensity that made my knees feel weak.