"My three-year-old maid’s daughter secretly led me upstairs and showed me the woman I planned to marry threatening her mother and implying she could make the little girl disappear. Vivien thought no one important was listening, but she had made one mistake: the child knew exactly which man in that house everyone feared.

The estate was quiet the next morning. The lingering chaos of the canceled wedding had been entirely scrubbed away by my staff.

I didn't sit in my study. I drove the armored SUV myself, navigating the winding roads leading out of the city toward the heavily fortified safe house nestled in the woods.

Nico opened the heavy iron gate as I pulled up.

I walked into the quiet, unassuming house. The smell of fresh coffee and baking bread filled the air, a stark contrast to the scent of blood and gunpowder that had saturated my home the night before.

Elena was sitting at the small kitchen table, holding a cup of tea. When she saw me, she stood up quickly, her eyes wide with lingering anxiety.

"Mr. Duca," she breathed out, looking me over for any sign of injury. "Is it over?"

"It is over," I confirmed softly, stepping into the kitchen. "Vivien is in federal custody. The Moretti syndicate is bankrupt and leaderless. The city is secure."

Elena let out a massive, shaky sigh of relief, dropping her face into her hands.

"Where is she?" I asked quietly.

Elena pointed toward the small living room.

I walked in. Mia was sitting on the carpet, surrounded by crayons, intensely focused on coloring a picture of a large, lopsided dog.

"Hello, Mia," I said, crouching down to her level.

She looked up, her gray eyes bright and completely devoid of the terror I had seen in them weeks ago. She smiled, revealing a missing front tooth.

"Hi, Uncle Lorenzo. Did you make the bad lady go away?"

"I did," I promised, reaching out to gently ruffle her dark curls. "She will never, ever come near your mama again."

Mia beamed, going back to her coloring.

I stood up and walked back into the kitchen. I placed a thick, sealed manila envelope on the table in front of Elena.

"What is this?" she asked, hesitant to touch it.

"It contains the deed to a house in a very quiet, very safe neighborhood in the suburbs," I explained, keeping my voice gentle. "It is fully paid for. There is also a trust fund established in Mia's name that will cover her education through college, and a pension that guarantees you will never have to scrub another floor as long as you live."