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

By midnight, the mansion on the bluff was surrounded by red and blue flashing lights.

Federal agents and Chicago police cars filled the long driveway. Julian Vale and his remaining associates were led out in handcuffs, shielded from the rain by armed guards, their political and criminal protection completely erased by the mountain of financial and medical evidence Roman had unleashed within an hour of the confrontation.

The news broke across the nation before dawn:

"ROMAN VALE RETURNS: CHICAGO KINGPIN EXPOSES BROTHER'S TREASON" "THE GHOST OF BLACKWOOD MANOR FOUND ALIVE"

Inside the north wing, the heavy oak doors were thrown wide open.

The velvet drapes had been pulled back, allowing the pale moonlight and the soft glow of the early morning sun to fill the vast master suite for the first time in four years.

Evelyn stood in the doorway, holding a tray with two fresh cups of coffee. She looked at the room, then at Roman and Clara sitting together on the leather sofa near the window.

Bear lay across both of their feet, fast asleep, snoring softly.

Evelyn set the tray down on the table, her eyes misting with rare emotion. "The house feels different today, Mr. Vale."

Roman looked up, his hand wrapped tightly in Clara's. The scar on his cheek was fully visible in the morning light, but he no longer turned away from it.

"Call me Roman, Evelyn," he said softly. "And open the rest of the wings. We're tearing down the locks."

Evelyn smiled—a genuine, warm smile—and bowed her head. "Yes, sir. Welcome back."

When Evelyn left, Clara turned to Roman, resting her head against his broad shoulder. "What happens now?"

Roman kissed the top of her head, pulling her closer against his chest. "Now, we rebuild. The syndicate will be cleaned up. The old debts are paid. And this house belongs to us again."