"A three-year-old girl walked up to Chicago's most feared mafia boss, lifted her arms, and asked for a five-minute hug because she'd never been held by a father. Then Dominic Valenti knelt down, looked over her shoulder at me, and stared like he already knew who she was."

Victoria Vance sat regally on the white velvet settee, wearing a crimson designer coat that screamed wealth and hostility. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a severe, flawless chignon, and her sharp blue eyes swept over the luxurious room with undisguised contempt.

When Dominic and I walked in—with Sophie safely upstairs with her nanny—Victoria didn't stand up. She simply smiled, a thin, razor-sharp curve of her lips.

“Dominic, darling,” Victoria purred, rising smoothly to her feet. She stepped forward, aiming straight for Dominic’s chest, but he didn't move an inch to meet her. She stopped a foot away, her gaze sliding over to me with naked disgust. “And this must be the... domestic help who managed to turn your penthouse into a nursery. How charmingly rustic.”

“Watch your tone, Victoria,” Dominic warned, his voice a low, lethal growl. “You have five minutes to state your business before I have my security detail throw you out the front gates.”

Victoria laughed—a sharp, brittle sound. “Oh, Dominic, don't be so dramatic. I only came to congratulate you on your newfound domestic bliss. Though I have to wonder what the board of directors at Valenti Holdings is going to say when they find out you’re harboring a nobody with a forged pedigree.”

I stepped forward, my posture straight, my gaze locked onto Victoria’s cold blue eyes.

“My pedigree is a matter of public record, Ms. Vance,” I said, my voice ringing clear and steady across the massive room. “Which is more than can be said for your family’s offshore accounts in the Caymans, which the federal government is currently auditing thanks to a very thorough tip provided by Mr. Valenti yesterday afternoon.”

Victoria’s flawless composure cracked for a split second. Her eyes widened in genuine shock.

“You—” she hissed, pointing a manicured finger at me.

“You came here tonight trying to threaten a child and assert dominance over a house you have no claim to,” I continued, stepping another inch closer until she was forced to look up at me. “You think Dominic is vulnerable because he cares about someone other than himself. But you’re making a fatal mistake.”

I turned my head slightly, looking back at Dominic, who stood watching us with a look of absolute, breathless fascination.

“He isn't vulnerable,” I said softly, looking back down at Victoria. “He’s invincible. Because for the first time in his life, he has something worth fighting for that he isn't afraid to lose.”

Victoria’s face flushed an ugly shade of crimson. She glared at Dominic, her chest heaving with rage. “You’re making a mistake keeping her around, Dominic. She’ll ruin you.”

“Get out,” Dominic said quietly.

Victoria sneered, grabbed her designer handbag from the settee, and stormed toward the double doors, slamming them shut behind her so hard the crystal chandelier overhead rattled.

Silence settled over the drawing room.

Dominic stood frozen by the doorway. Slowly, he walked across the velvet rug, stopping right in front of me. The cold, dangerous syndicate boss was entirely gone, replaced by a man who looked like he had just witnessed a miracle.