THE MAFIA BOSS’S FIANCÉE CALLED ME “A DESPERATE LITTLE MAID” WHEN I TOOK A SILVER TRAY FROM A LITTLE GIRL’S HANDS—BUT THE MOMENT HE SAW WHO WAS WEARING THE WAITRESS UNIFORM, HE STOOD UP.

Luca sat behind his expansive mahogany desk, his fingers steepled together, staring at the muted security monitor showing a furious woman in a designer trench coat pounding her fists against the thick steel bars of the gate.

“That’s Chloe Bellini,” I said, looking over his shoulder at the screen. “Vanessa’s younger sister. She worked as a PR consultant for some of Vanessa’s fashion ventures.”

“She’s wasting her time,” Luca said flatly, picking up his encrypted desktop phone. “Guards, escort her off the property line. If she refuses, have the local towing company impound her vehicle.”

“Boss, wait,” one of the guards interjected through the radio link. “She’s screaming that she has documents. Says Vanessa left something behind at her downtown loft that concerns your daughter directly. She’s demanding a face-to-face meeting or she’s leaking it to the Chicago Tribune.”

Luca froze. His jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek. “What kind of documents?”

“She wouldn't say. Just waving a yellow legal folder at the camera.”

I stepped closer to the desk. “Mr. Moretti, it could be a bluff. Desperate people try desperate things when their money gets cut off.”

“Or it could be another contingency plan Vanessa set up in case her initial custody petition failed,” Luca countered, standing up from his desk. He grabbed his tailored suit jacket from the back of the chair and slid it on. “Claire, stay here with Lily. I’m going down to the gates to handle this.”

“No, sir,” I said firmly, stepping into his path.

Luca paused, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“You are the head of this family, and you're dealing with a blackmailer at the perimeter,” I stated, holding my ground. “If you go down there alone, it looks like a negotiation. If I go with you as Executive Guardian representing your household interests, it shows an impenetrable front. Besides, I know how Vanessa operated; her sister probably doesn't even know what’s inside that folder.”

Luca studied me for a long moment, a slow, appreciative smirk touching his lips. “You really aren't afraid of anything, are you, Claire?”

“I have a mother whose mortgage is paid and a job I love protecting,” I replied evenly. “Fear is a luxury I don't have time for.”

“Fine,” Luca said, grabbing the heavy brass keys to his armored SUV. “Let’s go see what Chloe thinks she’s holding over us.”

Ten minutes later, our black SUV pulled up to the massive wrought-iron security gates. Chloe Bellini was standing outside the perimeter, shivering slightly in the crisp morning air, clutching a worn yellow legal folder against her chest like a weapon.

As Luca parked the vehicle and stepped out, I followed closely behind him. The contrast between Luca’s towering, menacing presence and Chloe’s frantic, disheveled desperation was striking.

“Open these gates!” Chloe screamed, grabbing the metal bars and shaking them. “You thugs can't just freeze my sister's accounts and throw her out on the street like garbage! We know everything about your illicit holdings, Moretti!”

Luca walked right up to the gate, stopping two feet away. He didn't raise his voice, but every word carried the weight of an executioner. “You have thirty seconds to drop the folder into the security drop-box and drive away, Miss Bellini. If you are still in Cook County by noon, you won't need to worry about your sister's accounts anymore, because you won't have a bank to put them in.”

Chloe flinched, her eyes widening with genuine fear. But desperation drove her forward. She pulled a single piece of paper from the yellow folder and pressed it flat against the iron bars.

“Look at this!” she shrieked. “This isn't about custody! This is about Lily’s real mother! You lied to everyone about how she died, Luca! And Vanessa found the truth!”