THE TATTOOED MAFIA BOSS WATCHED HIS BLONDE MAID’S SISTER’S FIANCÉ PULL HER CHAIR AWAY AT CHRISTMAS—BUT WHEN HER FAMILY LAUGHED AT HER PAIN, HE EXPOSED A SECRET THAT PUT HIS ENTIRE EMPIRE AT RISK

"# THE TATTOOED MAFIA BOSS SECRETLY LOVED HIS SKINNY BLONDE MAID—BUT WHEN HER SISTER'S FIANCÉ PULLED HER CHAIR AWAY AT CHRISTMAS AND EVERYONE LAUGHED, HIS TERRIFYING REACTION LEFT THE ENTIRE MANSION SPEECHLESS...

The chair disappeared beneath me half a second before I sat down.

I remember the scrape of wood against marble.

I remember my sister's fiancé laughing before I even hit the floor.

And I remember the sound my employer's chair made when he stood up.

That was the sound that stopped everyone else from laughing.

Christmas lunch at the luxurious Collins mansion had been going badly for almost two hours, but I had spent thirty-one years learning how to pretend bad things were normal.

So when Chase Holloway looked down at me sprawled on the marble dining room floor and shouted, "Timber!" while fourteen people laughed, my first instinct was still to smile.

Then I tried to move my right arm.

Pain shot from my elbow to my shoulder so violently that my vision blurred.

"My arm," I whispered.

Nobody heard me.

Or maybe they did.

My mother, Elaine, had both hands pressed to her chest because she was laughing so hard.

My younger sister Brooke was clapping.

Actually clapping.

"Chase, you're awful," she squealed.

She said it the way people say it when they mean the exact opposite.

Chase leaned over me in his expensive gray suit.

"Come on, Audrey. It was a joke."

I stared up at him.

He grinned.

Then he looked around the table to make sure he still had an audience.

"Maybe we should've checked the chair's weight limit first."

The laughter came again.

Louder.

That was when Daniel Collins stood.

***

Daniel Collins was my employer.

He was also the most feared Mafia boss in the Midwest.

Thirty-four years old.

Six feet four inches tall.

Broad-shouldered, muscular, and dangerously handsome, with thick dark hair, piercing gray eyes, a sharply defined jaw, and black tattoos covering his powerful forearms, chest, and part of his neck.

His criminal empire stretched across shipping terminals, luxury hotels, warehouses, private security companies, and underground business alliances.

Powerful men lowered their voices whenever he entered a room.

His enemies feared him.

His bodyguards obeyed him without question.

And nobody dared disrespect him inside his own mansion.

I had worked for Daniel as a housemaid for almost three years.

I cleaned the enormous guest rooms, changed bedsheets, polished expensive furniture, and helped manage the household's daily routines.

I was a fair-skinned white woman with a slender figure, long blonde hair, pale blue eyes, and delicate features.

I wasn't wealthy.

I wasn't powerful.

I was simply a maid trying to earn an honest living.

And I had absolutely no idea that the most dangerous man in Minneapolis had fallen in love with me.

Daniel had never told me.

He never crossed the boundaries between employer and employee.

He never asked me for anything personal.

But he remembered how I took my coffee.

He noticed when I worked too many hours.

And whenever I entered a room, his usually cold gray eyes softened in a way I never quite understood.

To me, he was simply Mr. Collins.

A powerful Mafia boss who treated me with more respect than my own family ever had.

What I didn't know was that he had spent years hiding feelings he was afraid to confess.

***

That Christmas, Daniel had hosted a private holiday lunch at his enormous mansion.

My family had been invited as guests.

It was an unusual gesture.

One I hadn't expected.

My mother, father, younger sister Brooke, and Brooke's fiancé Chase Holloway had arrived dressed for a celebration far more expensive than anything our family usually attended.

Fourteen people sat around the enormous dining table.

Crystal chandeliers hung above us.

White marble floors gleamed beneath the warm lights.

A towering Christmas tree stood near the grand staircase.

Fresh garlands decorated the gold-trimmed walls.

Outside, snow covered the mansion grounds.

Armed security guards stood discreetly near the entrances.

But inside the dining room, the atmosphere had become painfully familiar.

My family had spent most of lunch making jokes at my expense.

And I had done what I always did.

Smiled.

Stayed quiet.

Pretended it didn't hurt.

Daniel had noticed every insult.

But each time his expression darkened, I gave him a small, pleading look.

Please don't make a scene.

He respected my wishes.

Until Chase pulled my chair away.

***

Daniel had been sitting across from me.

In all the time I'd worked for him, I had never heard him scream.

Not once.

He didn't scream then, either.

Not at first.

He simply pushed his chair back and stood.

"Apologize to Audrey."

The room quieted by degrees.

Chase blinked.

"What?"

Daniel came around the table.

"Apologize."

There was something different in his voice.

Not loud.

Not wild.

Worse.

Controlled.

Chase gave a short laugh.

"Oh, relax. She's fine."

Daniel looked at me.

I was still sitting on the floor, holding my elbow against my ribs.

Then he looked back at Chase.

"She told you her arm hurts."

"It's Christmas, man."

"And?"

"It was a joke."

Daniel stopped three feet away from him.

"Explain it."

Chase frowned.

"Explain what?"

"The joke."

Nobody moved.

Daniel gestured toward me.

"Audrey is on the floor. She's hurt. You humiliated her in front of her family. Explain which part is funny."

Chase's face changed slightly.

People like Chase loved laughter as long as they controlled where it landed.

Take away the laughter and they often had nothing.

***

Brooke stood.

"Daniel, seriously. Don't make this weird."

I almost laughed then.

Don't make this weird.

As if Daniel had pulled the chair.

As if Daniel had made the joke.

As if Daniel had put me on the floor.

My mother hurried around the table.

"Audrey, sweetheart, get up. You're making everyone nervous."

I looked at her.

"I think my elbow is hurt."

Mom sighed.

It was an actual sigh.

"Then we'll put some ice on it."

Daniel's expression hardened.

"She needs to go to the hospital."

Chase rolled his eyes.

"Oh my God."

Daniel turned toward him so quickly the room froze.

"Do that again."

"What?"

"Roll your eyes while she's telling you she's injured."

Chase lifted his chin.

"You don't scare me."

"I'm not trying to scare you."

"Good."

"I'm trying very hard not to do something I'll regret."

***

My father finally spoke.

"Enough."

Dad's name was Robert.

He had spent most of his life believing that silence was dignity.

Growing up, I had thought that made him gentle.

It took me a long time to understand that sometimes silence was simply another way of choosing the person causing the harm.

"Everybody calm down," Dad said.

Chase smirked.

"There. See? Robert gets it."

Daniel looked at my father.

"With respect, sir, your daughter is on the floor."

Dad looked at me.

Then away.

Something inside me went cold.

***

I had spent my childhood trying not to be difficult.

Brooke had been the bright one.

The pretty one.

The funny one.

I was dependable.

In our family, dependable meant nobody had to worry about your feelings because you would carry them yourself.

When Brooke forgot Dad's birthday, I bought a second card and signed both our names.

When she wrecked Mom's car at seventeen, I drove three hours home from college because she was crying.

When she quit her first job after six weeks, I let her sleep in my apartment for five months.

When she got engaged to Chase, I designed her entire wedding floral plan for free.

Before becoming a full-time housemaid at the Collins mansion, I had owned a little flower shop in Minneapolis called Juniper & Rose.

It wasn't famous.

It wasn't glamorous.

But I had built it from nothing.

I knew how to turn grocery-store carnations into something beautiful and how to stretch a bride's budget without letting her feel poor.

When the business became too difficult to maintain, I took a housekeeping position at Daniel's mansion.

I still loved flowers.

And whenever the mansion hosted an event, Daniel allowed me to help arrange them.

Chase called me "the flower girl."

He had been doing it since the first time we met.

That Christmas morning, before lunch, he had leaned against the mansion's bar cart and announced that letting me do the wedding flowers was basically charity.

"You know," he'd said, "keeping business in the family."

Everyone laughed.

Daniel's jaw tightened.

I noticed.

And when his eyes met mine, I gave him a small shake of my head.

Please.

He understood.

He always did.

But now, looking at myself on the floor, I realized something.

Every time I had asked Daniel to ignore them, I had believed I was protecting Christmas.

Protecting Brooke.

Protecting Mom.

Protecting peace.

I had never once asked why peace always required me to be the person who swallowed the hurt.

***

Daniel crouched beside me.

His enormous frame lowered carefully onto one knee.

The dark tattoos on his forearms shifted as he reached toward my injured arm.

"Can you move your fingers?"

"A little."

"Don't straighten your arm."

His voice was gentle.

So different from the cold, commanding tone he used with his men.

For one brief moment, I forgot that he was the most feared Mafia boss in Minneapolis.

He was simply the man kneeling beside me.

The only person in that room who seemed to care that I was hurt.

Chase snorted.

That tiny sound did it.

Daniel rose.

He crossed the space between them.

Chase had just enough time to say, "What the hell—"

Daniel grabbed the front of his jacket and drove him backward into the wall.

Picture frames shook.

Someone screamed.

Chase's perfectly tailored jacket tore under one arm.

Daniel held him there, not by the throat, but by the lapels, his face inches from Chase's.

Nobody laughed now.

The enormous dining room fell completely silent.

Fourteen guests stared at the powerful, tattooed Mafia boss who had just pinned Chase against the wall.

Daniel spoke quietly.

"You like embarrassing people?"

Chase's face had gone white.

"Get off me."

"You think pain is funny?"

"Daniel!" Mom cried.

Daniel didn't look away from him.

"Say it again."

"What?"

"Say it again," Daniel repeated.

Chase's lips trembled. "I said it was a joke."

"No. You said she was too heavy for the chair. You said she deserved to be laughed at. Tell her you're sorry."

"I'm sorry, Audrey." The apology sounded like a receipt being printed: grudging, mechanical, and meant to end a transaction.

Daniel released him. "You will leave my home."

Brooke lunged forward, diamonds flashing at her wrist. "You can't throw us out on Christmas. Audrey, say something!"

I had spent my entire life saying something when Brooke needed me to rescue her. I had explained away her debts, forgiven her insults, and covered for her mistakes. Now my arm felt as though someone had threaded hot wire through the bone, and she was still asking me to make her life easier.

"I think," I said, surprised by the steadiness of my own voice, "you should go."

My mother's expression collapsed into outrage. "After everything we've done for you?"

"You laughed when I fell."

"We didn't know you were hurt."

"I told you. Twice."

A silence settled around the table. Beyond the windows, snow blew across the terraces. The quartet had stopped playing. Every guest close enough to hear pretended to study a flower arrangement or the bubbles in a champagne flute.

Daniel stepped away from Chase and came back to me. He didn't reach for my arm without asking. "The doctor is on her way. May I sit beside you?"

I nodded. The man who could command warehouses and armed guards sat on the carpet beside the sofa as though being at eye level mattered more than looking powerful.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"You didn't pull the chair."

"I saw what they were doing all afternoon. I should have checked whether you wanted help instead of assuming your silence meant you were all right."

"I kept asking you not to interfere."

"And I respected that. But I should have asked whether you needed a way out."

I studied his face. People called Daniel Collins ruthless. I had seen him reduce arrogant businessmen to whispers with a single look. Yet here he was, trying to find the right words for a woman in a maid's dress.

"Why do you care so much?" I asked.

He looked toward the Christmas tree. "Because this house was only a building before you came here."

My heart gave an awkward little leap.

Before he could explain, his security chief, Marcus Reed, appeared at the archway. Marcus was compact, silver-haired, and had the weary eyes of a man who had survived too many winters. He leaned close to Daniel and spoke quietly.

I caught only three words: "Holloway. North dock."

Daniel's expression changed so completely that I felt the shift before he spoke. His tenderness vanished behind a hard, calculating stillness.

"Are you certain?" he asked.

Marcus nodded. "The paperwork has his signature."

Across the room, Chase was helping Brooke into her coat. He noticed Daniel watching him and went very still.

The private doctor arrived moments later. She examined my swollen elbow and insisted on imaging at a hospital. Daniel arranged a car and asked Rosa to accompany me, but I shook my head.

"I can go with Rosa," I told him. "You have guests."

"My guests can entertain themselves."

"Daniel, please. I don't want to become another reason people talk about you."

His eyes softened at the sound of his name. "Then I'll ask instead of decide. Would you like me to come?"

I looked at the family waiting by the door, at my mother pretending not to stare, at Brooke whispering furiously into Chase's ear. Then I looked at the man who had been the only person to ask if I was in pain.

"Yes," I said.

He nodded once. "Then I'm coming."

As Marcus escorted the guests toward the front hall, Chase suddenly broke away and approached me. His face was pale, but there was something ugly beneath the fear.

"You think he's protecting you because he cares?" he hissed. "Ask him why he really invited your family today."

Daniel stepped between us. "That's enough."

Chase gave a thin smile. "Ask him about Juniper & Rose, Audrey. Ask him who bought the debt that shut down your flower shop."

The words hit harder than the fall.

I turned toward Daniel.