“Send the Nobody Sister—He’ll Send Her Back!” They Laughed—But the Mafia Boss Had Asked for Her All

The room Lorenzo escorted her to was not a basement holding cell. It wasn't even a standard guest room.

He opened the double doors to a sprawling suite in the east wing of the estate. The room was bathed in the soft, warm light of crystal lamps. A massive king-sized bed dominated the center, draped in heavy emerald silk. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the manicured, rain-swept gardens below. A walk-in closet was already stocked with dozens of high-end, tailored clothes in her exact size.

"You had this prepared," Emma observed, her voice barely a whisper as she stepped onto the plush Persian rug.

"I don't leave things to chance," Lorenzo replied, leaning against the doorframe, watching her take in the space. "Your belongings from the apartment were packed and moved while you were in transit. The wardrobe is an addition. You will not wear clearance rack coats in my house, Emma."

She turned to face him, crossing her arms defensively. "I am your employee, Lorenzo. Not a doll to be dressed up."

"You are my guest," he corrected smoothly, his dark eyes trailing over her practical black dress with intense, unapologetic appreciation. "And soon, you will be the most powerful woman in Chicago’s financial sector. You need armor that reflects that. Sleep well. Marco will bring you to the dining room at eight."

The doors clicked shut, leaving Emma entirely alone in the golden cage.

When she woke up the next morning, the storm had passed, leaving the estate bathed in crisp, bright sunlight. She showered in a marble bathroom larger than her entire Manhattan apartment and put on a pair of tailored navy slacks and a cream silk blouse from the new wardrobe. They fit perfectly.

Marco was waiting in the hallway exactly at eight.

"Good morning, Miss Emma," the massive enforcer said respectfully, offering a slight bow.

"Good morning, Marco," Emma smiled hesitantly. "Am I allowed to walk around freely?"

"You have unrestricted access to the estate, Miss," Marco replied, leading her down the grand staircase. "The Boss has given strict orders. You are second only to him in this house. Whatever you need, you ask."

They entered a sun-drenched breakfast room. Lorenzo was already seated at the head of a long glass table, drinking espresso and reading a newspaper. He wore a fitted black sweater that highlighted the broad, muscular lines of his chest.

When Emma walked in, he completely ignored the newspaper. He stood up, pulled out the chair to his right, and waited for her to sit.

"I took the liberty of ordering a workstation set up in the library for you," Lorenzo said, pouring her a cup of coffee himself. "Four monitors. Secure fiber-optic connection. We have a lot of work to do."