THE MAFIA BOSS’S FIANCÉE CALLED ME A MAID—UNTIL HER MOTHER UNVEILED HER DARKEST SECRET

Fourteen seconds.

Luca didn’t shout. He didn’t hesitate.

“Marco! Get them out! Now!”

Luca lunged toward the corner of the room, throwing the moldy burlap sacks aside. Beneath them sat a heavy metal crate wired to a cluster of commercial blasting caps.

I didn’t wait. I grabbed Lucas’s hand and hoisted Thomas by his good arm, pulling him toward the open door.

“Go, Emma! Run!” Thomas yelled, stumbling beside me.

Marco sprinted past us, having abandoned Victoria on the floor, though not before tossing her the keys to her own zip-ties. “You’ve got ten seconds to free yourself, crazy lady!” Marco barked, diving out the door.

We cleared the threshold just as Luca bolted out behind us.

“Down!” Luca roared.

He tackled me and Lucas, throwing his massive body over ours as we hit the gravel. Thomas and Marco dove behind the rusted remains of an old boxcar.

The explosion didn’t just shatter the night; it tore the air from my lungs.

A massive fireball erupted from the dispatcher’s shed, sending a shockwave of heat and splintered wood flying over our heads. The deafening boom rattled my teeth, and debris rained down like hail on the rusted train tracks.

I held Lucas tight against my chest, covering his ears, praying the flying shrapnel wouldn’t find us.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of roaring flames and falling ash.

Slowly, the ringing in my ears faded. Luca shifted his weight off me, pulling me to my feet. He checked me over rapidly, his dark eyes scanning for blood.

“Are you hurt? Emma, are you hit?”

“I’m okay,” I coughed, dusting ash from my hair. “Lucas?”

The little boy was shaking violently, but he was unharmed. He pointed a trembling finger toward the inferno.

The shed was completely engulfed in orange flames.

“Victoria…” I whispered.

Luca stared at the burning wreckage. “She made her choice.”

Marco jogged over, his suit covered in soot, helping Thomas to his feet. Thomas stared at the flames, a complicated mix of relief and sorrow washing over his hollow face.

“We need to leave,” Luca said, his voice returning to its usual icy command. “The fire department will be here in five minutes. Marco, scrub the tire tracks. No one was here.”

We hurried back to the SUV.

When we opened the doors, Margaret gasped. She threw her arms open as I lifted Lucas into the backseat next to his brother.

“Leo!” Lucas cried.

The twins collided in a desperate, tearful hug. Margaret wrapped her arms around both of them, burying her face in their dark hair.

Then, she looked up and saw Thomas standing outside the car door.

Margaret’s jaw dropped. She covered her mouth with her trembling hands. “Thomas? Dear God… Thomas?”

“I’m here, Margaret,” Thomas said softly, climbing into the back to sit beside her. “I’m sorry I lied. I had to protect them from her.”

Margaret wept openly, touching his face as if to prove he was real. “My Vanessa… why did she do this?”

Luca paused with his hand on the driver’s door. He looked back at Margaret, his expression heavy with pity.

“Mrs. Bellini,” Luca said gently. “The woman who was living in my house… was not Vanessa. It was Victoria.”

Margaret froze. The color drained from her cheeks. “Victoria? But… Victoria ran away thirteen years ago. She hated us. She hated Vanessa.”

“Vanessa is gone, Margaret,” Thomas said, his voice breaking. “She passed away giving birth to the boys. Victoria stole her identity to take her place.”

Margaret let out a wail of absolute heartbreak, clutching her grandsons tighter.

I slid into the passenger seat, my heart heavy. We had the boys. We had the truth. But the damage Victoria had done to this family was profound.

Luca started the car and drove us away from the burning rail yard, disappearing into the Chicago night just as the distant wail of sirens began to echo.

The ride back to the Gold Coast mansion was silent.

When we arrived, the house was dark and quiet, a stark contrast to the chaotic engagement party that had been happening just hours before.

Luca ordered the kitchen staff to prepare warm food for the boys and had one of the guest suites prepared for Thomas and Margaret.

I took the boys upstairs, running a warm bath for them and finding some soft oversized t-shirts for them to sleep in. When I finally tucked them into the massive plush bed in the guest room, they were asleep before their heads hit the pillows.

Thomas sat in a chair by the window, watching them breathe. He looked exhausted, but at peace.

“Thank you, Emma,” he whispered as I turned to leave. “For not turning away. For fighting for them.”

“Get some rest, Thomas,” I smiled softly.

I closed the door and walked down the grand hallway. I was exhausted, filthy, and my cheap housekeeping uniform was ruined. I wanted nothing more than to go down to my small basement room and collapse.

But as I passed Luca’s study, I saw the door slightly ajar.

The amber glow of a desk lamp spilled out into the hallway. I peeked inside.

Luca was sitting behind his massive oak desk. He held a glass of amber whiskey in one hand. In the other, he was staring at a piece of paper.

I knocked softly.

He looked up. “Come in, Emma.”

I stepped into the room. “The boys are asleep. Thomas and Margaret are resting.”

Luca nodded slowly. He took a sip of his whiskey and set the glass down.

“I misjudged you, Emma,” he said quietly. “When I hired you, I saw a quiet girl who needed a paycheck. I didn’t see a warrior.”

I blushed, looking down at my dirty shoes. “I just did what was right, Mr. Moretti.”

“Luca,” he corrected softly.

He slid the piece of paper he had been holding across the desk toward me.

“When my brother Antonio died,” Luca said, his voice tight with emotion, “I swore I would protect his bloodline. I failed him. But you… you gave me the chance to fix it.”

I picked up the paper.

It was a bank transfer receipt.

The amount was $250,000. And the recipient name was mine.

“Luca, I can’t accept this,” I gasped, setting the paper down immediately. “This is too much.”

“It’s not a reward, Emma,” Luca said, standing up and walking around the desk. “It’s severance.”

My stomach plummeted. “Severance? You’re… you’re firing me?”

Luca stopped right in front of me. He was so close I could smell the faint scent of sandalwood and smoke on his suit.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.

“I’m not firing you,” Luca said, his dark eyes locking onto mine. “I’m promoting you.”

He opened the box.