THE MAFIA BOSS FIRED HIS MAID IN FRONT OF 20 PEOPLE—BUT WHEN SHE REVEALED WHAT HIS TRUSTED ADVISER HID BEHIND THE WALL, HE GAVE AN ORDER THAT SHOOK ALL OF CHICAGO
Chapter 1: The Maid They Tried to Silence—And the Secret Hidden Behind the Mafia Boss's Study Wall
"The Maid Was Fired in Front of Everyone—Then the Mafia Boss Gave One Order That Changed Everything
The suitcase was already beside the front door when Alessia Romano realized they had decided to fire her before she even entered the room.
She stopped beneath the crystal chandelier.
20 people were watching.
Housekeepers in black uniforms stood along one wall. 2 security men waited near the staircase. At the center of the marble foyer, Mrs. Conti held a folded white apron in 1 hand and Alessia’s termination letter in the other.
Behind them all, at the bottom of the grand staircase, stood Dante Moretti.
The man who owned the mansion.
The man everyone in Chicago called something different when they thought he could not hear them.
Mafia boss.
Alessia looked at the suitcase.
Someone had packed it for her.
That bothered her more than the letter.
Mrs. Conti cleared her throat.
“Alessia Romano, your employment with the Moretti household is terminated effective immediately.”
Alessia looked at her.
“Why?”
“You know why.”
“No.”
Mrs. Conti’s mouth tightened.
“You entered Mr. Moretti’s private study last night.”
A murmur moved through the staff.
Alessia did not look toward Dante.
“Yes.”
“You admit it?”
“I was there.”
“The study is restricted.”
“I know.”
“And yet you entered without permission.”
“Yes.”
Mrs. Conti seemed almost disappointed by how easily Alessia admitted it.
“Then there is nothing more to discuss.”
She held out the termination letter.
Alessia did not take it.
“There is.”
Mrs. Conti lowered her voice.
“Do not make this harder than necessary.”
“You said I was fired for entering the study.”
“You were.”
“Then why is my suitcase packed?”
Silence.
Alessia looked toward it.
“I came downstairs 8 minutes ago.”
“That suitcase takes at least 20 minutes to pack properly.”
Several employees exchanged glances.
Mrs. Conti’s expression hardened.
“What are you suggesting?”
“That you decided what happened before you asked me.”
Dante finally moved.
Only 1 step.
It was enough.
The room became quieter.
Alessia felt his attention settle on her.
She had worked in his house for 7 months. In that time, she had learned something everyone else seemed to understand instinctively.
Dante Moretti did not need to raise his voice.
Silence usually arrived before he spoke.
Mrs. Conti extended the letter again.
“Take it.”
Alessia looked down at the paper.
Then she removed the silver housekeeping key from her pocket and placed it in Mrs. Conti’s palm.
“Fine.”
She turned toward the suitcase.
“Stop.”
Dante’s voice crossed the foyer.
Alessia froze.
Mrs. Conti did too.
Dante descended the final stair.
He was 41, tall, dressed in a dark charcoal suit without a tie. His face held the calm expression of a man who had spent years learning that anger was more useful when nobody could see it.
He walked past Mrs. Conti and stopped beside the suitcase.
He looked at it.
Then at the staff.
“Who packed this?”
Nobody answered.
Dante waited.
Mrs. Conti stepped forward.
“I instructed Maria to prepare Miss Romano’s belongings.”
“When?”
“This morning.”
“What time?”
Mrs. Conti hesitated.
“Approximately 6:30.”
Dante looked at Alessia.
“When were you told you were fired?”
“About 2 minutes ago.”
He turned back.
“So her belongings were packed before she was questioned.”
Mrs. Conti swallowed.
“The evidence was clear.”
“What evidence?”
“She was found in your private study.”
“By whom?”
“Mr. Bellini.”
Dante’s gaze shifted.
A man near the fireplace straightened.
Lorenzo Bellini was not household staff.
He was Dante’s financial adviser.
For 12 years, he had managed accounts most men in Chicago would never know existed.
Bellini stepped forward.
“I saw her leaving your study at 11:40 last night.”
Dante looked at Alessia.
“Were you?”
“Yes.”
Mrs. Conti exhaled as though that settled everything.
Dante did not move.
“What were you doing inside?”
Alessia looked at Bellini.
For the first time that morning, fear crossed her face.
Dante saw it.
Bellini did too.
“So,” Bellini said, “tell him.”
Alessia’s fingers tightened around the suitcase handle.
“I was cleaning.”
Bellini smiled.
“At midnight?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
Mrs. Conti shook her head.
“This is absurd.”
Dante’s gaze remained on Alessia.
“Look at me.”
She did.
“You’re lying.”
The room went still.
Alessia’s face lost color.
Dante stepped closer.
“But you’re not lying about being in the study.”
“No.”
“Then you’re lying about why.”
She said nothing.
Bellini moved forward.
“Dante, this is exactly the problem. She had unauthorized access to private documents. Security should remove her.”
Dante looked at him.
“Did I ask you?”
Bellini stopped.
“No.”
Dante turned toward Mrs. Conti.
“Give her the key back.”
Nobody moved.
Mrs. Conti blinked.
“Sir?”
“The key.”
She opened her hand.
The silver key lay against her palm.
Dante took it and held it toward Alessia.
She stared at him.
“I don’t understand.”
“You don’t need to.”
Slowly, she accepted it.
Dante looked around the foyer.
Then gave the order that silenced the room.
“Everyone who had access to this house after 10:00 last night stays.”
Mrs. Conti frowned.
“Mr. Moretti—”
“Alessia isn’t fired.”
Bellini’s jaw tightened.
Dante continued.
“Lock the gates.”
The 2 security men moved immediately.
“No staff leaves.”
“No vehicles leave.”
“No bags leave.”
His eyes settled on Bellini.
“And nobody touches my study until I know what she saw.”
Alessia stopped breathing.
Dante noticed.
Bellini did too.
That was when Dante knew the maid had not been caught stealing something from him.
She had caught someone else.
20 minutes later, Alessia sat alone in the library.
Her suitcase remained in the foyer.
The termination letter remained unsigned.
Dante entered and closed the door.
She stood.
“Sit.”
“I’d rather stand.”
His eyebrow moved slightly.
“Fine.”
He crossed to the desk.
“What did you see?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re a bad liar.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“By whom?”
“You.”
For half a second, Dante almost smiled.
It disappeared.
“Bellini wanted you out of this house before I could question you.”
Alessia said nothing.
“He was too eager.”
Still nothing.
“And you looked at him before you lied.”
She folded her arms.
“You notice a lot.”
“It has kept me alive.”
That answer changed the room.
Alessia looked away.
Dante leaned against the desk.
“If you stole from me, tell me now.”
“I didn’t.”
“If you copied something—”
“I didn’t.”
“If someone paid you to enter my study—”
“No.”
That answer came differently.
Immediate.
Offended.
Dante believed it.
“Then tell me why you were there.”
Alessia looked toward the library door.
“Will you let me leave afterward?”
“If you want.”
“You locked the gates.”
“To keep someone else inside.”
She looked back at him.
“You really think someone framed me?”
“I think your suitcase was packed before anyone asked what happened.”
Silence.
Dante waited.
Finally, Alessia reached into the pocket of her uniform.
She placed something on the desk.
A brass cufflink.
Dante stared at it.
A small letter B was engraved on the face.
“Bellini.”
“Where did you find this?”
“Under your desk.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
“Why were you under my desk?”
“I wasn’t.”
She hesitated.
“I was picking up a photograph.”
“What photograph?”
“One of your mother.”
Dante’s expression changed.
Alessia continued carefully.
“It was on the floor outside the study.”
“You recognized her?”
“There’s a portrait of her upstairs.”
His mother, Bianca Moretti, had been dead for 11 years.
Very few people in the house mentioned her.
Alessia continued.
“The study door was open.”
“It is never open.”
“I know.”
“I went inside to put the photograph back.”
“Then I heard someone in the corridor.”
“Who?”
“I didn’t see.”
“So you hid?”
“Yes.”
“Under my desk?”
“Behind the curtains.”
Dante stared.
Alessia shrugged.
“They’re very large curtains.”
“Continue.”
“A man entered.”
“He didn’t turn on the lights.”
“He went directly to the wall behind your desk.”
Dante’s face hardened.
“What did he do?”
“Pressed something underneath the wooden panel.”
Dante said nothing.
“Part of the wall opened.”
Now he moved.
“How much did you see?”
“Enough.”
“What was inside?”
“A safe.”
Dante’s gaze sharpened.
“You’re certain?”
“Yes.”
There was no safe behind the wall of his study.
At least none he knew about.
“What happened next?”
“He opened it.”
“How?”
“A key.”
“What did he take?”
“A red folder.”
“Anything else?”
“I don’t know.”
“I heard footsteps and thought someone else was coming.”
“So you left through the side door.”
“And Bellini saw you.”
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“Yes.”
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