The Mafia Boss Smelled Blood on His Maid’s Sleeve and the Name She Whispered Made Him Lock Every Door in the House

Roman and Claire returned to the central command hub. Time was ticking—three minutes left before Victor’s five-minute ultimatum expired.

“What’s the plan?” Claire asked, reloading her revolver with fresh cartridges from her pocket.

“Victor expects us to defend from the inside,” Roman said, pulling up the house’s master mechanical grid on the main terminal screen. “He thinks the iron shutters are our only defense. He’s going to use his thermal charges on the front entrance.”

Roman pressed several keys on the console. “Vale House wasn't built just as a estate. My grandfather was a military engineer. The grounds are equipped with gas suppression systems, automated security turrets, and secondary emergency traps designed for a siege.”

“You’re going to trigger the defense systems?”

“I’m going to draw them into the Grand Foyer,” Roman said. “We raise the shutters on the main doors, making them think we’re surrendering or that the power failed. Once Victor and his main assault team step into the foyer, we seal the blast doors behind them and trap them in the kill box.”

“And Victor?” Claire asked.

“Victor stays with me,” Roman said grimly.

Roman reached into a cabinet and pulled out a heavy kevlar tactical vest, stepping behind Claire to adjust the straps over her uniform. His hands were smooth and practiced, pulling the straps tight against her waist.

“This will protect your vitals,” he murmured, his hands resting on her hips for a fraction of a second longer than necessary.

Claire turned her head, looking up into his eyes. “Roman... why are you doing all this for me? I’m just a maid you hired eleven months ago.”

Roman looked at her, his dark eyes softening slightly. “You were never just a maid, Claire. For eleven months, I’ve watched you walk through this house. I watched you take care of everyone around you while nobody took care of you. I saw how smart you were, how observant you were... and how much pain you carried without ever letting it make you cruel.”

He reached up, touching her chin softly. “I’ve spent my whole life around vicious, selfish people. You were the only pure thing in this house. And tonight, when blood was on your sleeve, you didn’t run. You stood your ground.”

Claire’s breath hitched. She reached up and placed her hand over his. “I’m not running now either.”

A loud siren blared through the house console—a red warning light flashing across the terminal.