The Mafia Boss Waited Until 2 A.M. to Accuse His Maid of Lying, but the Bruise on Her Wrist Exposed the Betrayal Inside His Own House

The wind howled across the slate roof of the Lake Forest mansion, driving cold rain against the stone parapets.

At the center of the broad helipad, a dark executive helicopter sat with its rotors spinning slowly, unable to gain power because the fuel lines had been cut off by Claire’s system override.

Marcus stood by the open cabin door, furiously punching commands into a handheld diagnostic pad.

"Dammit!" Marcus cursed, throwing the pad onto the wet concrete.

"It won't start, Marcus," Mason’s voice carried over the sound of the wind.

Marcus turned around slowly.

Mason stepped onto the helipad, his gun leveled at his former security chief. Beside him stood Claire, her clothes soaked with rain, her pale face determined and unyielding.

Marcus looked from Mason to Claire, a bitter, desperate laugh escaping his lips. "You brought the maid to a gunfight, Mason?"

"The 'maid' just cut off your escape route," Claire said, her voice cutting through the storm.

Marcus’s eyes flared with anger. He drew his sidearm, but before he could raise it, Mason fired a single, precise shot that struck Marcus in the hand, knocking his weapon skittering across the wet roof tiles.

Marcus gasped, clutching his bloody fingers, dropping to his knees on the slick pad.

Mason walked forward until he stood directly over the man who had betrayed his family.

"The Morettis are dead or retreating on the front lawn," Mason said coldly. "Dominic has secured the estate. Your contract is over, Marcus."

Marcus looked up, rain streaming down his scarred face. "Shoot me then. Do it. You were always your father's son."

"No," Mason said softly. "My father would have buried you in the woods. I'm going to hand you over to Dominic’s interrogation team. By tomorrow morning, every contact you gave the Morettis will be wiped off the map."