EVERY WOMAN RAN FROM THE MAFIA BOSS’S LOCKED NORTH WING… UNTIL THE NEW MAID LOOKED AT THE BEAST BESIDE HIS BED AND SPOKE Beast by the Name It Had Before the Fire

For twenty seconds, nobody moved. The heavy rain continued to strike the leaded glass windows along the corridor, sounding like tiny iron pellets thrown against the mansion.

"What did you say?" Roman’s voice came through the thick wood, quieter now, but laced with a lethal thread.

"I said the dog knows his manners," Sadie answered smoothly, shifting her posture just enough to make her skirt rustle. "And I know how to do my job without screaming."

A low whine escaped the creature behind the door—a high-pitched, almost puppyish sound that clashed violently with its terrifying size. A large black snout pressed against the crack beneath the door, sniffing deeply at the air.

Sadie slowly dropped to one knee, ignoring every safety rule Evelyn had drilled into her head. She extended one pale hand, laying her fingers flat against the cold floorboards, just inches from the massive black nose.

The dog inhaled sharply. Then, a long, rough tongue rasped once across Sadie’s fingertips through the narrow gap.

"Bear," Roman’s voice barked from the shadows inside. "Back."

The giant dog whimpered once, but slowly dragged its massive body backward into the dark room, the heavy iron chain clanking rhythmically against its broad collar.

"You're playing a dangerous game, girl," Roman said, his footsteps finally approaching the door. He walked with a slight, heavy limp—the right leg dragged marginally, the sound of leather boots clicking unevenly against the floor. "Whoever sent you here didn't tell you the whole story."

"Nobody sent me, Mr. Vale," Sadie said, rising gracefully back to her feet. "I applied through the agency. I needed a job that paid well enough to keep me quiet."

"People who come here looking for money usually end up buried under the pier," Roman spat out. "Leave the tray. Get out of my wing."

"Yes, sir," Sadie said softly.

She turned and began walking down the corridor. She didn't hurry. She didn't look back. But as she reached the corner, she heard the heavy brass latch of the double doors click open with a sharp, echoing snap.

She paused, keeping her back to the hallway, listening intently.

The door swung open three inches.

A wave of freezing air rushed out from the room, carrying with it the heavy smell of pine, leather, and fresh ointment. Through the gap, a pair of piercing, storm-gray eyes locked onto Sadie's back.

Roman Vale stood in the sliver of light. Half his face was illuminated by the corridor lamp—sharp, extraordinarily handsome, with a jawline carved from dark granite and hair black as a raven's wing. But the right side of his face and neck were hidden in deep shadow, buried beneath the high, stiff collar of a black wool robe.

Beside his hip stood the monster: an English Mastiff mix so massive it looked more like a black bear than a canine, its chest broad as a barrel, its dark eyes intelligent and fixed entirely on the girl at the end of the hall.

"What is your name?" Roman demanded softly, the roughness in his throat sounding almost painful.

Sadie turned her head just enough to show him her profile, her pale blue eyes cool in the dim lighting.

"Sadie Quinn, sir."

Roman watched her for three long seconds. His gaze drifted down to her hands, noting the steady, unshakeable calm of her posture.