Chapter 1
A crowded Christmas reception filled the mansion’s luxurious music salon, vibrating with the low hum of expensive conversations and the clinking of crystal champagne flutes. Cascading crystal chandeliers flooded the entire space with warm, golden light, casting an ethereal glow over the city's most dangerous elite. Ivory candles glowed steadily in ornate brass candelabras, their flames reflecting endlessly in the gilded mirrors that lined the walls. Polished marble floors gleamed beneath carved walnut furniture and champagne velvet sofas. Evergreen garlands framed the grand fireplace, filling the air with the sharp, fresh scent of pine. In the corner, a towering Christmas tree sparkled brilliantly with golden lights and heavy crimson ornaments, a festive monument in a room filled with predators.
Beside the tree stood a low velvet ottoman. Lena Grant sat on its edge, feeling entirely out of place. She was a beautiful, gentle maid with delicate features and bright, expressive eyes, but tonight, she looked exhausted. Her fitted black maid dress felt restrictive, her white collar and cuffs stiff against her skin. Her hair was slightly disheveled from hours of relentless work, her white apron noticeably rumpled, and her white ruffled maid headband sat slightly crooked atop her head.
Through the sea of tailored suits and silk gowns, a tiny figure waddled toward her. Theo Crowne, the three-year-old heir to the Crowne syndicate, wore a soft cream Christmas sweater and soft trousers. His rosy cheeks bunched into a hesitant smile as he spotted her.
Lena’s heart melted. She gently opened her arms, leaning forward on the ottoman, her voice a soft, musical whisper over the din of the party.
"One little hug, sweetheart?" Lena asked, looking warmly at the toddler.
Theo took another step, his little arms raising instinctively. But then, his bright eyes darted past Lena’s shoulder. He noticed Natalie Voss watching them from across the room. Natalie, Emmett’s fiancée, stood like a poisonous queen in a striking burgundy satin gown, her diamond earrings flashing like warning beacons.
Theo stopped dead in his tracks, just beyond Lena’s reach. His small hands dropped to his sides, and he looked worriedly at Lena, his bottom lip quivering.
"No hug," Theo said softly, with a small, heartbreaking toddler pause. "Auntie hits Mommy."
The words were quiet, but in that exact second, the ambient noise of the room seemed to shatter. Emmett Crowne, the formidable mafia boss, stopped right beside the ottoman. He was a devastatingly handsome, masculine man with broad shoulders and an angular jaw. His naturally swept-back hair and extremely short stubble gave him a rugged edge that sharply contrasted with his tailored dark three-piece suit. A family signet ring gleamed on his hand, and artistic tattoos with negative space decorated his hands and fingers.
Every guest in the immediate vicinity fell dead silent, the hush spreading like wildfire until the entire salon turned toward Emmett.
Emmett looked directly at Lena. His dark eyes were unreadable, but the air around him grew instantly freezing.
"Lena," Emmett said quietly, with a measured, terrifying pause. "She hits you?"
Lena met Emmett’s intense gaze. She could feel the stares of a hundred ruthless people burning into her skin. Her breath trembled, her chest rising and falling rapidly before she forced herself to steady her voice.
"For every hug," Lena whispered, the truth finally tearing free. "Every single one."
Natalie stepped forward, her eyes flicking nervously toward the watching guests before returning to Lena. Her polished smile tightened into a mask of pure contempt.
"Servants don’t get to be loved," Natalie sneered, her voice echoing in the silent room.
May you like
Emmett moved with lethal grace. He stepped smoothly between Natalie and the ottoman, completely shielding Lena from his fiancée's view. He rested a large, reassuring hand on Lena’s trembling shoulder. Emboldened by his father's presence, Theo cautiously reached out. Lena gently accepted Theo’s tiny fingers, holding onto the child like a lifeline.
Emmett did not look at his son, nor did he look at the maid he was protecting. His cold, unwavering gaze remained fixed entirely on Natalie.
