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

CRACK!

The heavy brass base of the lamp struck Victor cleanly across the left side of his jaw.

The blow was so powerful it knocked his head sideways, sending a spray of blood and broken teeth onto the carpet. Victor let out a strangled shriek, his hand reflexively pulling the trigger of his pistol.

PFFT!

The silenced shot went wild, punching a hole into the ceiling plaster above them.

Victor stumbled backward, clutching his shattered jaw, his eyes wide with shock and fury. "You bitch!" he screamed through a mouthful of blood.

He raised the gun again, his hand shaking violently with rage.

Harper didn't wait for him to aim.

She dropped the lamp, closed the distance between them in a single stride, and brought her open palm across his face in a brutal, wild, unforgiving slap.

SNAP!

The sound echoed through the bedroom like a thunderclap.

The sheer unexpected force of the blow hit Victor directly across his ear, throwing his balance off completely. He stumbled backward over the small coffee table, his feet tangling in the rug, and crashed heavily onto his back against the marble hearth of the fireplace.

His head struck the hard stone edge with a sickening THUD.

The pistol slipped from his fingers, clattering across the floorboards. Victor lay still, his eyes rolled back, unconscious and bleeding profusely from his scalp.

Harper stood over him, her chest heaving violently, her open right palm burning hot and red from the impact.

She stared at the unconscious man at her feet, her hands shaking, her lungs gasping for air.

"I told you," a deep voice echoed from the doorway. "It becomes funnier every time she does it."

Harper spun around, her heart nearly leaping out of her chest.

Standing in the open doorway, framed by the red emergency lights, was Damian Romano.

He was wearing his dark suit, though his tie was loosened, and a heavy tactical rifle was slung over his broad shoulder. Behind him stood Gabriel, a amused smile playing on his thin lips, holding a pair of heavy zipties.

Damian didn't look at Victor’s bleeding body on the floor.

His eyes were fixed entirely on Harper.

He dropped his rifle onto the floor, crossed the room in three massive strides, and pulled her into his arms.

The embrace was sudden, overwhelming, and absolute.

Damian pulled her flush against his broad chest, his massive arms wrapping around her waist and back, lifting her feet off the floor by an inch. He buried his face in the side of her neck, taking a deep, ragged breath of her scent.

Harper collapsed into him, her arms wrapping around his neck, holding onto him with everything she had. The smell of rain, cedarwood, and faint gunpowder washed over her, grounding her instantly.

"You're okay," Damian whispered into her hair, his voice rough and shaking with an emotion he could no longer hide. "You're safe. I've got you."

"He said... he said you walked into an ambush downtown," Harper sobbed against his shoulder, tears finally breaking free and spilling down her cheeks.

"The ambush was here," Damian said softly, lifting his head to look down into her eyes. "We intercepted Victor's comms an hour ago. We let him disable the power so he would lead us directly to whoever was helping him inside the estate."

He looked down at Victor’s limp body on the hearth, then back at Harper’s red, swollen palm.

A deep, rumbling laugh shook Damian’s chest.

"You neutralized a traitor with a table lamp and an open palm," Damian murmured, his dark eyes sparkling with unbridled admiration and pride. "You really are incredible, Harper."

Harper wiped the tears from her face, letting out a small, breathless laugh of her own. "He was talking too much."

"He won't be talking anymore," Gabriel noted dryly, stepping forward and efficiently securing Victor’s wrists behind his back with zipties. "I'll take him down to the basement. Gabriel's team has already secured the perimeter. The Vane leadership was arrested twenty minutes ago by the federal marshals using the ledger copies."

Gabriel pulled Victor out of the room, shutting the heavy door behind him, leaving Damian and Harper alone in the warm, red-lit quiet of the bedroom.

Damian did not let go of her.

His large hands remained rested securely on her waist, holding her close, his thumb gently caressing the warm skin of her hip through her sweatpants.

"It's over, Harper," Damian whispered softly. "The Vane family is finished. Victor is done. You are completely, permanently safe."

Harper looked up at him—at the man who had protected her, who had trusted her, who had looked at a terrified maid and seen a woman worthy of standing beside him.

"What happens now?" she asked quietly.