Chapter 3 - She Was Carrying a $200 Million Heir When the Assassins Opened Fire—And the Fallen Mafia King Finally Revealed Why He Had Protected Her for YearsThe baby survived.
Those three words were the only thing Amelia heard clearly for the next hour.
The bleeding came from trauma, not miscarriage.
She needed rest.
Monitoring.
Reduced stress.
Amelia laughed when the doctor said that.
Reduced stress.
Her dead husband was alive.
Her unborn child controlled two hundred million dollars in corporate shares.
A mafia underboss wanted Vincent murdered.
Vanessa had participated.
And someone had fired into a church.
But yes.
Reduced stress.
Vincent sat outside her hospital room.
He didn't enter until she asked.
That mattered.
“Come in.”
He appeared immediately.
“You were waiting?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Three hours.”
“You could have gone home.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
He corrected himself.
“I didn't want to.”
Better.
Amelia touched her stomach.
“The baby is okay.”
“I heard.”
His shoulders loosened.
She noticed.
“Why do you care so much?”
Vincent looked at her.
“That's a strange question.”
“No.”
She studied him.
“You cared before tonight.”
He said nothing.
“Before you knew about the trust.”
“Yes.”
“Before you knew Daniel was alive.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Vincent sat.
For once, the King of Chicago looked uncertain.
“Your mother.”
Amelia frowned.
“What?”
“I knew her.”
She froze.
“How?”
“She worked for my family.”
“My mother was a nurse.”
“Yes.”
“For your father?”
“No.”
Vincent looked toward the window.
“For my mother.”
Amelia's heart tightened.
Vincent rarely spoke about his mother, Elena Cavalli.
She died when he was twenty.
“What happened?”
“My mother had cancer.”
“I know.”
“Your mother cared for her privately.”
Amelia stared.
“She never told me.”
“She promised confidentiality.”
“That was twenty years ago.”
“Yes.”
Vincent continued.
“I was nineteen.”
His voice changed.
“You visited once.”
“I don't remember.”
“You were eleven.”
Amelia searched her memory.
A huge house.
A kitchen.
A sad young man in a suit.
Maybe.
“You gave me a sandwich.”
Vincent almost smiled.
“I hadn't eaten.”
“My mother told me you were grieving.”
“She was right.”
“What does that have to do with now?”
“Your mother made me promise something.”
Amelia waited.
“If her family ever needed help, I would give it.”
She stared.
“So that's why you hired me?”
“Partly.”
“Partly?”
Vincent looked uncomfortable.
“Your application was rejected.”
“What?”
“Three years ago.”
“For the Cavalli hotel.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Manager said you were overqualified.”
“I was applying for housekeeping.”
“You had an associate degree in business administration.”
“I needed work.”
“I know.”
“What did you do?”
“I reversed the decision.”
Amelia stared.
“You interfered.”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell anyone to treat me differently?”
“No.”
“Did you increase my salary?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you would have noticed.”
She almost laughed.
“You knew me that well?”
“Your mother described you accurately.”
Amelia's throat tightened.
“What did she say?”
“That you hated being pitied.”
Tears filled Amelia's eyes.
“That sounds like her.”
Vincent continued.
“When you transferred to the mansion, I recognized your name.”
“So all these years…”
“I watched from a distance.”
“That sounds creepy.”
“Fair.”
She smiled weakly.
“Anything else?”
Vincent hesitated.
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Daniel.”
Her smile vanished.
“I investigated him before your wedding.”
“You what?”
“I investigate everyone connected to my household.”
“I wasn't household then.”
“Your mother mattered to mine.”
“So you investigated my boyfriend?”
“Yes.”
“Vincent.”
“I found nothing.”
“Apparently your investigators were terrible.”
“Apparently.”
She sighed.
“Did you ever tell Daniel?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Silence.
Then Amelia asked, “Why didn't you tell me about my father?”
“I didn't know.”
“You knew my mother.”
“Not Samuel.”
“Your father did.”
“Yes.”
Anger returned.
“Your family stole from mine.”
“Yes.”
“You benefited.”
“Yes.”
“And now my child is being hunted because of it.”
“Yes.”
She waited for excuses.
None came.
Vincent looked at her.
“If you want nothing to do with me after this, I'll understand.”
The words hurt unexpectedly.
Amelia looked away.
“I don't know what I want.”
“You don't need to.”
“Everyone wants something from me.”
“I know.”
“Victor wants the shares.”
“Yes.”
“Daniel wants his family back.”
“Yes.”
“Lawyers want control of the trust.”
“Yes.”
“What do you want?”
Vincent took a long time.
“The truth?”
“Yes.”
“I want you safe.”
She waited.
“And?”
His jaw tightened.
“I want your child safe.”
“And?”
He looked at her.
“I want you to stop calling me Vincent in that tone.”
Despite everything, she laughed.
“What tone?”
“The one that makes me feel twelve.”
“You deserve it.”
“Frequently.”
She became serious.
“And?”
Vincent looked down at his hands.
“I don't know whether I’m allowed to want anything else.”
Amelia's heart beat faster.
“That's not an answer.”
“No.”
“Then answer.”
He looked at her.
“I've cared about you for longer than I should have.”
Silence.
Amelia stopped breathing.
Vincent continued before she could speak.
“I never acted on it.”
“You were engaged.”
“Yes.”
“I was married.”
“Yes.”
“You're my employer.”
“Not anymore.”
She frowned.
“What?”
“You're fired.”
Amelia stared.
Then laughed so hard the heart monitor changed rhythm.
A nurse looked in.
Amelia waved.
She turned back.
“You fired a pregnant woman in a hospital?”
“With full severance.”
“Vincent!”
“You said employer.”
“You're unbelievable.”
“I can rephrase.”
“Please.”
“You no longer work for me.”
“Why?”
“Because whatever happens next, I don't want your housing, salary, or health insurance dependent on whether you reject me.”
That silenced her.
Vincent continued.
“You keep all benefits for one year. No conditions.”
“That's excessive.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because power matters.”
She stared.
He had listened.
To everything she said about men making choices for women.
“You're serious.”
“Yes.”
“What happens if I tell you I don't feel the same?”
“I'll still protect you if you want protection.”
“And if I don't?”
“I'll hate it.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“But?”
“But I'll respect it.”
Amelia looked down.
Her marriage to Daniel had begun with love.
Real love.
That was what made the betrayal so painful.
Daniel wasn't a monster.
He had been afraid.
He made catastrophic choices while telling himself they were for her.
Vincent was dangerous in different ways.
Powerful.
Controlling by instinct.
Accustomed to obedience.
But unlike Daniel, Vincent seemed increasingly willing to examine those instincts.
That mattered.
Still—
“I can't.”
Vincent's face became unreadable.
“Okay.”
“Not now.”
Something changed.
Hope.
Amelia continued.
“My husband came back from the dead yesterday.”
“Reasonable obstacle.”
“I’m pregnant.”
“I noticed.”
“My entire life is insane.”
“Yes.”
“And you're still technically a mafia boss.”
“Allegedly.”
She glared.
“Vincent.”
“Sorry.”
“I need time.”
“You have it.”
No argument.
No persuasion.
Just acceptance.
Amelia breathed easier.
Then Nico entered.
“Boss.”
Vincent looked at him.
“What?”
“We found the shooter.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Who hired him?”
Nico looked at Amelia.
“Daniel.”
The room went silent.
“No.”
Amelia sat straighter.
“That's impossible.”
“He confessed.”
“People confess to things they didn't do.”
Nico nodded.
“Which is why I checked.”
He placed photographs on the table.
Daniel meeting the shooter.
Two days earlier.
Amelia felt sick.
Vincent didn't touch her.
Didn't say I told you.
He waited.
“Where is Daniel?” she whispered.
“Missing.”
Her eyes filled.
“Why would he shoot at me?”
Nico answered carefully.
“He may not have been shooting at you.”
“Vincent.”
“Yes.”
The bullet had passed inches from Vincent's head.
Amelia understood.
Daniel wanted Vincent dead.
Why?
Jealousy?
Victor?
The trust?
Then another possibility came.
“Daniel knew Vincent would protect me.”
Nico frowned.
“What?”
“The church.”
She replayed it.
Daniel positioned himself away from the windows.
He had insisted Vincent was dangerous.
Then the shot.
Vincent tackled her.
Daniel barely moved.
“He knew.”
Vincent's face hardened.
Amelia continued.
“Daniel knew where the shooter would be.”
Nico nodded.
“We think so.”
“Why?”
Vincent answered.
“To convince you I'm the target.”
“But you were.”
“Maybe.”
Amelia looked at the trust documents.
Then understood.
“If you die, Victor gets control.”
“Yes.”
“If I believe you caused the danger, I leave you.”
“Yes.”
“And Daniel takes me somewhere Victor controls.”
“Yes.”
Her heart broke.
Daniel hadn't returned to save her.
He had returned to deliver her.
Maybe he once loved her.
Maybe part of him still did.
But fear, money, and Victor had twisted that love into something else.
Amelia wiped her tears.
“Find him.”
Vincent nodded.
“No killing.”
He stared.
“I mean it.”
“He tried to murder me.”
“I know.”
“He endangered your baby.”
“I know.”
“Amelia.”
“If you kill him, I will never know whether justice happened or revenge.”
Vincent looked at her for a long time.
Then nodded.
“Alive.”
Nico left.
Amelia looked toward the window.
“What happens to Vanessa?”
“She disappeared.”
“With Victor?”
“Probably.”
“So they're together.”
“Yes.”
“And tomorrow night was supposed to be your murder.”
“Yes.”
She turned.
“Then they still need you dead.”
“Yes.”
“What if we give them what they want?”
Vincent frowned.
“What?”
“You already pretended to lose your empire.”
Her eyes sharpened.
“Now pretend they killed you.”
May you like
For the first time in days, Vincent Cavalli smiled.
And somewhere beneath Chicago, Victor Falcone was about to discover that the pregnant housekeeper he considered disposable had just designed the trap that would destroy him.
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