"THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME SERVE HIS ENGAGEMENT DINNER WITH MY HAIR COVERING ONE EYE—THEN HIS FIANCÉE SAID, “SHE HIT HER FACE ON THE PANTRY DOOR,” BEFORE HE HAD EVEN ASKED WHAT HAPPENED.

Luca’s study was thick with silence. The heavy oak paneling seemed to absorb the low hum of the city outside, leaving only the sound of my ragged breathing and the ticking of a brass clock on the mantle.

"What item?" Luca asked, his voice flat, devoid of emotion.

I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling the stiffness setting into my shoulder where William Mercer had shoved me against the wall before I struck the doorframe. "I... I didn't hear the exact name of it, Mr. Moretti. She whispered it to him. But she said it was the only piece of leverage your ex-wife held over you from the divorce four years ago. She said if your ex-wife thought you were betraying her with Vanessa back then, she would burn it out of spite."

Luca slowly sank back into his leather armchair. His dark eyes flicked to the ceiling, where Vanessa was likely lying in his bed, assuming her position as future mistress of the Moretti estate was completely secure.

"The ledgers," Luca murmured to himself.

"Sir?"

He looked up at me, his gaze sharpening. "When my former wife, Elena, and I divorced, a set of personal financial journals went missing from the estate vault in Michigan. They didn't contain criminal evidence—I am far too careful for that, Olivia—but they contained names. Personal contacts. Private family legacies spanning three generations of the Moretti name." He rested his elbows on the polished desk, lacing his fingers together. "Elena swore she didn't take them. I spent two years searching for them before giving up."

"Vanessa knew where they were," I whispered. "She told Mercer that Elena had them hidden in a safe-deposit box in Boston under her maiden name."

Luca leaned back, a dark, cold smile touching his lips. It was a terrifying sight—a predator finally realizing where the trap had been set.

"So Vanessa was planning to provoke Elena," Luca analyzed quietly. "She sends fabricated proof of an ongoing affair, drives Elena into a rage, and prompts Elena to use the ledgers to destroy my wedding. Then Vanessa plays the loyal, devastated fiancée, steps in to 'save' me, and secures the ledgers for herself."

"She would own you," I said, the gravity of my own words terrifying me.

"She would try," Luca corrected smoothly. He picked up the photograph of himself and Elena, staring at it for a long moment before sliding it into his desk drawer and locking it with a brass key.

He looked at me then—really looked at me. His eyes trailed from the dark, ugly swelling on my cheekbone down to my trembling hands.

"You took a massive risk keeping that photograph, Olivia," he said. "If Mercer or Vanessa had caught you with it, a bump on the cheek would have been the least of your concerns."

"I... I knew what she was doing wasn't right, sir," I stammered, my knees shaking beneath my uniform apron. "And... and Mrs. Carter always said you were fair to the staff. I couldn't let her ruin your life."

Luca stood up from his desk. He walked around to the front, stopping just two feet away from me. He was tall—over six feet—and his sheer presence was overwhelming. Yet, he didn't move aggressively. He reached into his inner suit pocket, pulled out a silk handkerchief, and gently handed it to me.

"Press this against your face," he commanded softly. "The ice pack Dr. Harris gave you wasn't enough."

I took the silk cloth, pressing it to my burning skin. "Thank you, Mr. Moretti."

"From this moment on, you do not clean the guest rooms," Luca stated, his voice turning into military-grade command. "You do not serve Vanessa. You do not leave this estate without my security detail."

My heart hammered against my ribs. "Sir, I have an apartment in Lincoln Park. My rent—"

"Will be paid for the next three years," Luca interrupted smoothly. "And your salary will be tripled. Effective immediately, you are my personal assistant."

I stared at him in shock. "Assistant? Mr. Moretti, I'm a waitress. I scrub floors."

"You are observant. You possess courage. And most importantly, you lied to my face tonight to protect yourself, but you told me the truth when it mattered," Luca said, stepping closer. "In my line of work, Olivia, loyalty and perception are worth more than a master's degree from Harvard."

Before I could process his offer, the study door handle jiggled.

Luca froze. His hand instinctively reached into his jacket toward his holster, but he stopped himself, giving me a silent gesture to step behind his desk into the shadow of the bookcase.

The door swung open.

Vanessa stood in the doorway wearing a silver silk robe. Her long dark hair fell over her shoulders, and her eyes were narrow, suspicious.

"Luca?" she murmured, looking around the room. Her eyes landed on him standing near the desk. "It's past eleven. Why are you still down here? I thought you were coming up after your meeting with Daniel."

Luca’s face transformed in a split second. The cold, dangerous mob boss vanished, replaced by the smooth, indulgent multi-millionaire fiancé. He offered her a warm, easy smile.

"Just wrapping up some security logistics for the wedding catering, darling," Luca said smoothly, stepping toward her and placing his hands on her waist. "You should be resting. You looked exhausted during dessert."

Vanessa’s eyes flicked past his shoulder, searching the dark corners of the study. "I thought I heard voices down here. Was someone else in the room?"

"Just Dr. Harris," Luca lied without missing a beat, kissing her temple. "He was giving me an update on the maid."

Vanessa’s expression hardened slightly. "That girl again? Luca, honestly, why are you obsessing over a clumsy servant? She probably tripped over her own feet."

"I don't like blood on my marble floors during my engagement party, Vanessa," Luca murmured, his voice laced with a subtle double meaning that made my blood run cold from behind the bookcase. "It leaves a stain that's impossible to clean."

Vanessa chuckled softly, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Well, she's gone now. Come to bed, Luca. We have to finalize the guest list for the rehearsal dinner tomorrow."

"You go up," Luca said softly, untangling her arms from his neck. "I have one quick call to make to my attorney in Boston. I'll be up shortly."

Vanessa hesitated, her eyes scanning the desk once more before she nodded. "Don't be long."

She turned and glided back out into the hallway, shutting the door behind her.

Luca waited ten seconds. The moment her footsteps faded up the grand staircase, his smile vanished completely.

He turned back to the bookcase. "You can come out, Olivia."

I stepped out, my breath hitching in my chest. "She doesn't suspect anything."

"She thinks she's the smartest person in the room," Luca said, walking over to his phone and hitting a speed-dial button. "That is going to be her fatal flaw."

He put the phone to his ear. "Daniel. Get the jet ready. We're flying to Boston at dawn. And bring two extra security men for Olivia."