My little girl unmasked the billionaire’s pregnancy hoax, and the whole ballroom was left breathless.

I didn't sleep a wink that night.

Dr. Rossi had arrived within ten minutes, a discreet, silver-haired man who treated Emma’s fever with professional efficiency and asked absolutely zero questions about why a housekeeper’s child was being treated in the Don’s private sanctuary.

By 2:00 AM, Emma’s fever had broken, and she was sleeping soundly in a massive canopy bed draped in Egyptian cotton.

The suite Alessandro had placed us in was larger than my entire apartment building. It was located in the heavily guarded East Wing of the mansion, an area typically reserved for visiting capos and international dignitaries. Now, it belonged to a maid and her three-year-old.

I sat in a velvet armchair by the window, watching the rain batter the glass. Below, the estate was crawling with armed men. Spotlights swept across the manicured lawns. The security had been tripled.

They were expecting a war. And it was my fault.

Around 4:00 AM, I saw headlights approaching the main gates. A sleek black SUV aggressively rolled up to the iron bars. Even from the third floor, I could hear the shouting. A man stepped out of the vehicle, waving his arms, pointing a finger at the security cameras. It was Lorenzo Cole—Vanessa’s older brother, notorious for his violent temper and underground gambling rings.

I pressed my hand against the cold glass, my heart racing.

Suddenly, the front doors of the mansion opened directly below my window. Alessandro walked out onto the stone steps. He wasn't flanked by bodyguards. He walked out alone, a lit cigarette between his lips, looking utterly bored.

I couldn't hear the words exchanged, but the body language was clear. Lorenzo was screaming, demanding entry. Alessandro stood perfectly still, smoking his cigarette in the rain.

Then, Lorenzo made a fatal mistake. He reached inside his jacket.

He never even got his hand out.

From the shadows of the hedges, three red laser sights painted Lorenzo’s chest. Alessandro didn't flinch. He simply took a drag of his cigarette, pointed a single finger at Lorenzo, and then pointed at the ground. Kneel.

Even from up here, I saw Lorenzo Cole’s arrogance evaporate. He slowly sank to his knees in the mud. Alessandro walked up to the gates, spoke a few words through the iron bars, and flicked his cigarette onto Lorenzo’s lapel. Lorenzo scrambled backward into his SUV and sped away into the night.

I stumbled back from the window, gasping for air.

What have I gotten myself into?

An hour later, there was a soft knock on my door. I froze.

"Elena. Open it." It was Alessandro.

I hesitated, then slowly turned the deadbolt. He stood in the doorway, smelling of rain, tobacco, and expensive cologne. His eyes swept over me, taking in my disheveled uniform and exhausted face.

"He's gone," Alessandro said quietly. "Lorenzo Cole won't be bothering us tonight."

"He was trying to kill you," I whispered.

"He was trying to scare me," Alessandro corrected, stepping into the room. He glanced at the bed where Emma was sleeping peacefully. His expression softened for a fraction of a second before the iron mask slipped back on. "There is a difference. But it proves my point. The Coles are desperate to save face. They will look for a weak link."

"And that’s me."

"Yes." Alessandro stepped closer. The sheer magnetism of the man was intoxicating, making it hard to think straight. "Which is why you can no longer be a housekeeper. It leaves you too vulnerable, too exposed to the other staff."

I frowned, confused. "Are you firing me?"

"I am promoting you," he said, his lips twitching into a ghost of a smile. "As of tomorrow morning, you are my personal assistant. You will shadow me. You will work from my office. You will be by my side at all times. If anyone asks, you are managing my private affairs."

"I don't know anything about managing a billionaire's affairs!" I protested, my voice squeaking. "I know how to get red wine stains out of cashmere! I know how to polish silver! You can't just—"

"I can do whatever I want, Elena," he said, stepping so close I could feel the heat radiating from his chest. "I am keeping you close. Where I can see you. Where I can protect you. Do you understand?"

I looked up into his dark, bottomless eyes. I saw ruthlessness there, yes. But beneath it, a burning, fierce possessiveness that terrified and thrilled me in equal measure.