The Shy Waitress Signed to the Mafia Boss’s Deaf Mother, and the Man Everyone Feared Did Something No One Expected

Later in the evening, Harper excused herself to the terrace to catch her breath. The cool night air felt refreshing against her warm skin. She leaned against the marble balustrade, looking out over Central Park.

“Miss Hayes.”

Harper turned to see Dominic Vance stepping out onto the dark terrace, holding two glasses of champagne.

“Mr. Vance,” Harper said politely, recognizing him from Roman’s earlier warnings.

“You’ve made quite an impression tonight,” Vance said, stepping closer. “A simple waitress working her way into the inner circle of the Moretti empire. Tell me... how much is Roman paying you to act as his mother’s keeper?”

“I am employed as Mrs. Moretti’s companion,” Harper replied coolly, her posture turning defensive. “And my private arrangements are none of your concern.”

Vance smiled, a predatory expression that made Harper’s skin crawl. “Roman Moretti is a violent man, my dear. He uses people until they break. You think you’re special because you can wave your hands around for his mother? To him, you are nothing more than a shield.”

Vance reached out, his hand closing around Harper’s wrist with surprising force. “I could offer you twice whatever he’s paying. Just keep your ears open in that estate.”

“Let go of me,” Harper commanded, her voice icy.

“Don’t be stupid, girl—”

Before Vance could finish his sentence, a dark figure materialized out of the shadows. A heavy hand slammed onto Vance’s shoulder, spinning him around!

Roman’s fist struck Vance across the jaw with brutal, terrifying precision. Vance stumbled back, slamming hard into the stone wall, his champagne glass shattering on the terrace floor.

“Roman!” Harper gasped.

Vance groaned, clutching his bleeding mouth, looking up in shock.

Roman stood over him like an vengeful shadow, his eyes burning with pure, unbridled rage. He reached down, grabbing Vance by his lapels, lifting the older man nearly off his feet.

“I told you what would happen if you touched what belongs in my care,” Roman growled, his voice a lethal whisper that thrilled and terrified Harper all at once.

“Roman, stop!” Harper stepped forward, laying her hand on Roman’s tensed forearm. “Please! Not here!”

Roman froze at the touch of her soft hand on his arm. Slowly, he looked at her. Seeing the distress in her eyes, the dark rage in his chest began to subside. He shoved Vance backward onto the ground.

“Get out of my sight,” Roman commanded quietly. “Before I forget where we are.”

Vance scrambled to his feet, glaring at them both before retreating quickly into the ballroom.

Roman turned to Harper, taking her hands in his, checking her wrists for bruises. “Did he hurt you?”