“Is this enough for a hug?”

Victor sneered, trying to maintain his bravado. "She was just securing her future! You are soft, Rafael! You are letting a crying child and a maid dictate the politics of the entire eastern seaboard!"

"Do you consider the premeditated abuse of my family to be mere politics?" Rafael inquired, stepping off the stairs and closing the distance between them until he was mere inches from Victor’s face.

"It's business!" Victor shouted. "And right now, business dictates that you hand her over before I burn this place down!"

"Shall we see how much your business is worth when it is buried in ashes?" Rafael asked softly.

He didn't wait for Victor to draw a weapon. Rafael moved with blinding speed, his tattooed hand closing like a steel vice around Victor's throat, lifting the older capo off the floor.

"Did you think I would let you leave this house alive after what your blood tried to do to mine?" Rafael asked, his eyes burning with absolute, murderous intent.

The sound of weapons cocking echoed through the foyer, signaling the beginning of a bloody, uncompromising war. Rafael threw the older man backward, drawing his own suppressed weapon in a single, fluid motion as the grand foyer erupted into deafening violence. The marble shattered around them as the Ashford enforcers opened fire, returning the deadly barrage from the Vale syndicate.

Upstairs, the sounds of the battle were muffled but unmistakably terrifying. Mina sat on the floor of the nursery, her back pressed against the heavy oak door. She held a heavy brass candlestick she had taken from the mantle, her knuckles white. Theo remained fast asleep, entirely exhausted, oblivious to the fact that an army of mafia hitmen were trying to burn his house down.

Suddenly, the handle of the bedroom door rattled violently.

Mina gasped, scrambling backward, raising the heavy brass candlestick. "Who is it?" she cried out, her voice shaking.

"Are you unharmed, Mina?" Rafael's deep, unmistakable voice filtered through the heavy wood.

Mina sobbed in relief, immediately throwing the deadbolt and pulling the door open.

Rafael stepped into the room. He looked like a god of war. His crisp white shirt was stained with soot, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his muscular, tattooed arms. The extremely short stubble on his jawline was dark with ash, and a nasty cut ran across his high-bridged nose. Yet, his posture remained unbowed, and his cold, perceptive eyes swept the room instantly, finding her in the dim light.

"Is it over?" Mina whispered, terrified of the answer.

"Do you believe the Vale family will ever pose a threat to us again?" Rafael inquired, stepping back slightly to look down into her face. "Victor is dead. His remaining men surrendered when they realized they were completely surrounded by my tactical teams."

Mina swallowed hard, the brutal reality of the mafia world crashing over her. She had exposed a lie, and Rafael had finished a war.

The morning sun cast a bright, luminous light over the shattered glass and scarred marble of the Ashford estate. The air still smelled faintly of cordite, but inside the grand dining room, a strange, profound peace had settled.

Rafael stood by the tall, repaired windows of his private study, gazing out over the sprawling grounds. He had changed into a fresh, immaculate dark three-piece suit, his powerful shoulders carrying the weight of his newly solidified empire.

Mina stepped into the study, and Rafael’s breath hitched slightly in his chest. She was no longer wearing the sophisticated black maid dress. Instead, she wore a beautifully tailored, emerald-green silk blouse and dark trousers, clothes Rafael had ordered for her before the sun rose.

"Did you sleep at all, Mina?" Rafael asked, closing the distance between them.

"A little," Mina answered softly. "Theo is awake. He is asking for you."

"Do you believe the savior of the Ashford family should ever wear a maid's uniform again?" Rafael asked, a faint, almost imperceptible smile touching his lips as he offered her his arm.