She S.l.a.p.p.e.d the Mafia Boss Before His Entire Family, and His Smirk Vanished When She Revealed What He Had Done Six Months Earlier

The week leading up to the winter dinner was filled with an oppressive silence. Harper spent every night refining her extraction software, creating a virus capable of bypassing the heavy security protocols of the Moretti estate's private server.

On Tuesday evening, two days before the event, Roman called her to his private study. The room was dark, lit only by the fire crackling in the hearth.

"I received confirmation today," Roman said, standing by the fire. "Your brother is safe. I’ve had him moved to a secondary location near the Canadian border. Once Thursday night is over, he will be given a new identity and enough funds to start over."

Harper felt a wave of relief wash over her, but it was quickly replaced by a heavy, hollow feeling in her stomach. "And what about me?"

Roman walked over to her, his shadow falling over her face. "You will be free, Harper. Free from the debt. Free from me."

"Is that what you want?" she asked, the question slipping out before she could stop herself.

Roman looked at her, his expression unreadable, but the intensity in his eyes was almost unbearable. "What I want is irrelevant in my world, Harper. In my world, love and affection are weaknesses that get people killed. My father loved his family, and it cost him his life because he couldn't see the snakes at his own table."

"I am not a snake, Roman," she said softly.

"No," Roman agreed, reaching out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. "You are the brightest light that has ever walked into this dark house. And that is why I must let you go when this is over."

Before Harper could respond, his phone vibrated on the desk. Roman answered it, his tone instantly shifting back to cold authority. "Speak."

As he listened, his jaw clenched, and his knuckles turned white around the phone. "When?" he asked flatly. "Understood. Lock down the perimeter."

He hung up and looked at Harper, his eyes sharp with sudden danger. "Silvio has moved the timeline up. He brought in twenty outside contractors from Miami. They’re already stationed at the hotel."

"He knows we’re close," Harper said, standing up.

"He knows someone is leaking info," Roman corrected. "He doesn't know it’s you. He thinks I have a mole among my captains. He’s planning to force a vote of no confidence at the dinner before the main course is served."

"Then I need to get into that server room earlier," Harper said firmly. "I need to load the extraction script before the guests arrive."

"No," Roman commanded. "It’s too risky. The security detail will be doubled."

"It’s the only way, Roman!" Harper argued, stepping right up to him, taking his hands in hers. "If we wait until the assembly begins, Silvio will already have executed the transfer! We need the proof on that flash drive before he takes the microphone!"

Roman looked down at their joined hands, then up at her face. For the first time since she had met him, she saw a flicker of genuine fear in his eyes—not fear for himself, but fear for her.