"I slept on the cold floor outside my mob boss's bedroom—unaware I was about to expose a killer in his mansion."

Adrian set me down gently on the soft leather sofa near the hearth, wrapping a heavy dark wool blanket around my shoulders. He walked over to a small mahogany sideboard, poured a glass of warm spiced tea, and handed it to me.

His fingers brushed mine as I took the cup. His hands were warm, solid, and steady as granite.

"Drink it, Claire," Adrian instructed softly, sitting on the low table across from me, his storm-gray eyes scanning my pale face. "You're freezing."

I took a slow, shivering sip of the warm tea, feeling the heat spread through my chest, my hands gradually ceasing their violent trembling.

"Mr. Moretti..." I whispered, looking up at him. "Are you going to arrest Dean?"

A cold, razor-sharp smile touched the corners of Adrian’s carved lips—a look of pure, sovereign authority that made my heart race against my ribs.

"If I arrest Dean tonight, Claire," Adrian explained cleanly, "the men behind him—the Moretti family’s rival syndicate in Manhattan, the Vance Syndicate—will simply recruit another rat inside my gates. They need to believe their plan is working."

He stood up, walking over to his mahogany desk, opening an encrypted leather folder, and pulling out a small silver device that looked like a sleek pen drive.

"Dean Russo has worked for my family for six years," Adrian said, his baritone dropping into a dark, quiet register. "My father trusted his father. But Dean made two fatal mistakes: he mistook my quietness for weakness, and he put his hands on you."

He walked back to the sofa, dropping flat onto one knee right on the plush carpet before me, taking my small, warm hand into his broad palm.

"Starting tonight, Claire," Adrian declared, his eyes locking onto mine with an unshakeable, absolute covenant, "you are no longer my housekeeper. You are moving into the secondary guest suite inside my private wing."

My hazel eyes widened in total shock. "Mr. Moretti... what will the other staff say? The guards—"

"The guards answer to me, Claire," Adrian interrupted with deep, genuine pride. "And anyone who looks at you with disrespect will answer to my sidearm."