The Mafia Boss Ordered the Plus-Size Maid to Sit Beside Him, but the Slap She Gave Him Saved Her Life

Nine o'clock came and went in absolute silence.

The estate felt eerie, hollowed out by the absence of its master and the dozens of guards who had been deployed into the city to execute Damian’s trap.

Harper sat at the small writing desk in the master suite, attempting to read a book Gabriel had brought her, but her mind refused to focus on the printed words. Every creak of the floorboards, every gust of wind against the heavy steel shutters made her jump.

Suddenly, the lights flickered.

Once. Twice.

Then the room plunged into absolute darkness.

Harper gasped, dropping her book onto the desk.

The low, comforting hum of the central heating system died instantly. A second later, the red emergency backup lights clicked on, casting a faint, eerie crimson glow across the massive bedroom.

THUD.

A muffled sound echoed from the hallway outside—heavy, wet, and sickeningly brief.

Harper stood up instantly, her heart slamming against her ribs like a sledgehammer.

"Gabriel?" she called out toward the heavy oak door, her voice trembling.

There was no answer.

CLICK.

The sound of an electronic keycard clearing the lock echoed through the door.

Harper backed away from the desk, her eyes searching the room frantically for a weapon. Her hands found a heavy brass table lamp on the nightstand. She ripped the cord from the wall and clutched the heavy metal base in both hands, raising it like a club.

The heavy oak door swung open slowly.

A tall, thin man in a tactical dark coat stepped into the red light of the room. He was wearing leather gloves, and in his right hand he held a silenced pistol dripping with fresh, dark blood.

It wasn't a Vane enforcer.

It was Victor Crane.

Harper stopped breathing. "Victor?"

The estate manager looked entirely different. The nervous, sniveling demeanor he had displayed in the dining room was gone, replaced by a cold, arrogant sneer that made her stomach turn.

"Miss Ellison," Victor said, his voice smooth and entirely devoid of his usual manicured polite tone. "Or should I call you the million-dollar maid?"

"You..." Harper stammered, stepping backward until her calf hit the edge of the bed. "You work for the Vanes."

Victor chuckled softly, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind him. "I've been on the Vane payroll for five years, my dear. Damian Romano is an arrogant brute who thinks he controls this city, but he never realized that the man managing his household was selling his schedule to his worst enemies."

He raised the silenced pistol, pointing it directly at her chest.

"You caused a great deal of trouble last night, Harper," Victor said lazily. "If you had simply sat in that chair like a good little maid, you would be dead, I would have recovered the ledger from your dorm room, and I would be three million dollars richer sitting on a beach in Mexico."

Harper clutched the brass lamp tighter, her knuckles turning white. "Damian knows. He knows everything."

"Damian is currently walking into a full tactical ambush at the downtown office," Victor lied smoothly, taking a slow step toward her. "By the time he realizes the office is empty, I will have the ledger, your body will be at the bottom of the lake, and the Vanes will have retaken control of the city."

He reached out his free hand. "Hand over the ledger, Harper. Make this easy on yourself."

Harper stared at the cold black barrel of the pistol. Fear—sharp, blinding, and familiar—threatened to paralyze her limbs once more.

She saw Tyler's face in the red light. She saw Victor's sneer. She saw every man who had ever looked at her and assumed she was weak, soft, and easy to break.

Then she saw Damian.

She saw him throwing his body over hers. She heard his voice booming in the dark: “Don't ever apologize for defending yourself. Not to anyone.”

A hot, fierce wave of absolute rage burned away the panic in her veins.

"No," Harper said, her voice dropping into a register so cold and hard it startled even Victor.

"What?" Victor blinked in surprise.

"I said no," Harper growled.