The Mafia Boss Thought His Maid Was Stealing From Him Until He Opened Her Bag and Changed Every Rule in His House

The door opened before Emma could even stand up.

Three men pushed their way into the tiny apartment without asking permission. The man in the lead wore a heavy leather jacket that smelled strongly of cheap cologne and stale smoke. He had slicked-back hair, a thick neck, and a cruel, practiced sneer.

"Well, well, look at this," the lead man sneered, taking in the battery-lit room. "Candlelight dinner. How romantic, Emma."

Emma instantly stood up, stepping between the men and the couch where Lily sat. Her posture turned fiercely protective. "Geno. What are you doing here? It's past nine o'clock."

"Your week is up, sweetheart," Geno said, stepping further into the room, entirely ignoring the large man standing in the shadows near the kitchen nook. "You owe Donny fifteen hundred bucks for the loan. Plus three hundred for late fees."

"I paid you four hundred last Friday!" Emma said desperately. "That was all I had!"

"Four hundred barely covers the interest, honey," Geno laughed, taking a tooth-pick out of his mouth and flicking it onto the floor. "Donny says if you don't have the cash tonight, we take the TV, the microwave, and whatever else has value in this dump. And if that ain't enough... well, Donny said you could work it off at the club cleaning up after hours."

Lily shrank back beneath her blankets, clutching her one-eared rabbit tightly.

Vincent stepped out of the shadow of the hallway wall.

The movement was silent, deliberate, and sudden enough to make the two thugs standing behind Geno jump.

Geno turned his head, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the towering man in the bespoke coat. He hadn't noticed Vincent in the dim lantern light.

"Who the hell are you?" Geno demanded, trying to puff out his chest to look tough. "Her boyfriend? This is private business between Emma and Donny’s crew. Mind your own business, big guy."

Vincent didn't answer immediately. He looked down at the toothpick Geno had thrown onto the floor—the floor where Emma’s child lived.

"Whose crew are you with?" Vincent asked flatly. His voice was dangerously quiet.

Geno laughed, though a flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes at the absolute lack of fear in the big man's voice. "We're with the South Side Syndicate. Donny 'The Hammer' Russo. Ever heard of him? So unless you want your head cracked open, walk out that door."

Vincent took a slow, deliberate step forward.

"Donny Russo pays twenty percent of his weekly take to the Carver family," Vincent stated smoothly. "Which means Donny Russo works for me."

Geno froze. The sneer on his face flickered, replaced by a sudden, creeping pale hue. He looked closer at Vincent’s face—the sharp jaw, the cold grey eyes, the distinct scar running along the left side of his neck.

"Carver..." Geno stammered, taking an involuntary step back. "You're... you're Vincent Carver."

The two thugs behind Geno instantly straightened up, their hands flying away from their pockets as if burned. In Chicago's underworld, standing in a room with Vincent Carver without his permission was a quick way to end up in the bottom of Lake Michigan.

"Mr. Carver, sir!" Geno choked out, his voice instantly dropping two octaves into frantic submission. "We... we didn't know! Donny just sent us to collect on a personal debt! We had no idea this woman was connected to you!"

Vincent stepped right up to Geno, standing so close the smaller man had to tilt his head back to look up.

"Her name is Emma," Vincent said softly. "And she works in my house."

"We're sorry, boss! Really! We'll leave right now—"

"How much did she borrow?" Vincent interrupted cold.

"It... it was twelve hundred bucks, sir," Geno stammered, cold sweat breaking out across his forehead. "For medical stuff..."

Vincent reached into his inner breast pocket, pulled out a thick leather wallet, and extracted a stack of crisp, hundred-dollar bills. He didn't count them. He simply shoved the stack into Geno’s leather jacket pocket.

"There's three thousand," Vincent said flatly. "Twelve hundred for the debt. The rest is for Donny to lose her file. If anyone from your crew comes within five blocks of this building again, I won't call Donny. I'll come find you personally. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir! Absolutely, Mr. Carver! Thank you, sir!" Geno bowed repeatedly, backing out of the apartment so fast he nearly tripped over his own men.

The heavy wooden door slammed shut behind them.

The apartment returned to a heavy, heavy quiet, broken only by the soft hum of the battery lantern.

Emma stood staring at Vincent, her jaw slightly open, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She had just watched the most dangerous loan sharks in her neighborhood turn into trembling children at the sound of his name.

Vincent turned back toward her, adjusting his cuffs.

"Pack your bags," he said calmly.

Emma blinked. "What?"

"You and your daughter are moving," Vincent stated, looking around the cold, dark apartment. "I have guest cottages on the east side of my estate. They are heated, furnished, and secure. Dr. Evans is waiting at the estate to examine Lily."

"Mr. Carver, I can't accept that!" Emma protested, her pride fighting through her exhaustion. "You've already paid my debt! I can't owe you—"

Vincent walked up to her, stopping inches away. He looked down into her fierce, stubborn brown eyes with an intensity that made her breath catch in her throat.

"You don't owe me anything, Emma," Vincent said quietly. "Consider it an advance on your new position."