Curvy Maid Snuck a Sip of the Mafia Boss’s Wine—Then He Caught Her and Asked, “Enjoying It?”

The news hit the room like a physical blow.

Sophie stepped back, her face draining of color. "Me? Why would they want me now? I have nothing left."

Dante’s expression turned into a mask of pure, murderous intent. "They don't want your money, Sophie. They want your mind. And they want to take away the one thing that gives me an advantage over them."

Dante walked over to his desk, picking up his glass of wine from earlier and draining it in one gulp. He turned to Marco. "Assemble the captains. We are moving the entire operation to the lake house in Geneva. The mansion is no longer secure."

"Right away, boss," Marco said, nodding before hurrying down the hall.

Dante turned to Sophie, his eyes dark with resolve. "Pack a bag. We leave in twenty minutes."

"Dante, I can't keep running," Sophie said, her voice shaking slightly. "If Falcone knows I'm here, he'll keep sending men. People will get killed because of me."

Dante walked over to her, grabbing her hands and holding them tightly against his chest. "No one is dying because of you, Sophie. Falcone made a fatal mistake tonight. He brought a war to my doorstep, and he threatened the woman I—"

Dante cut himself off, but the intensity in his gaze completed the sentence.

"I won't let him take you," Dante said softly. "Never."

An hour later, a convoy of heavily armored black SUVs sped out of the Romano estate, slipping through the darkened streets of Chicago toward the private retreat in Lake Geneva.

Sophie sat in the back seat of the middle vehicle, sandwiched next to Dante. The tension in the car was thick. Dante held a encrypted phone to his ear, issuing rapid-fire orders in fluent, commanding Italian.

Sophie looked out the tinted window at the passing city lights. She felt like she was trapped in a whirlwind, spinning faster and faster into the heart of a darkness she had spent years trying to avoid.

When they arrived at the Lake Geneva property, it was well past midnight. The lake house was less of a house and more of a secluded fortress, surrounded by dense pine forests and heavily guarded perimeter fences.

Dante led Sophie upstairs to a master suite overlooking the dark, tranquil waters of the lake.

"You'll be safe here," Dante said, setting her bag down near the bed. "My best men are guarding the perimeter. Falcone doesn't know this property exists."

Sophie walked over to the French doors leading to the balcony, staring out at the water. "How long can we live like this, Dante? Hiding behind bulletproof glass?"

Dante stepped up behind her, his chest pressing lightly against her back. He wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Not long," Dante murmured against her neck. "Because tomorrow, we stop hiding. Tomorrow, we go on the offensive."

Sophie turned around in his arms, looking up into his grey eyes. "What are you planning?"

"Falcone is hosting his annual charity gala tomorrow night at the Grand Hotel," Dante explained, his fingers tracing the curve of her jaw. "It's where he conducts his biggest high-society deals. He’s unveiling a new venture—a multi-million-dollar investment fund backed by his imported luxury goods empire."

"The very empire built on stolen land and counterfeit goods," Sophie said, her eyes narrowing as she caught on.

"Exactly," Dante said with a dark smile. "I'm going to crash his party. And you, my sweet Sophie, are going to help me destroy his credibility in front of every wealthy investor in the city."

Sophie felt a sudden thrill of danger mixed with vindication. For three years, she had been a victim of the Falcone family’s greed. Now, standing in the arms of a man powerful enough to challenge them, she saw a chance to take her power back.