**THE MAFIA BOSS’S SECRET SAVIOR**

"Vincent, please, she's lying!" Sabrina sobbed, taking a step backward toward the cliff edge. "My father—"

"Your father is a dead man walking," Vincent said, his voice devoid of all emotion. "And you are worse. You came into my home. You ate at my table. You plotted to kill my brother, and you laid your hands on the woman who has been keeping this family alive."

"She's a maid!" Sabrina screamed hysterically.

"She is an Ashford in everything but name," Vincent roared, the sheer volume of his voice making Sabrina flinch. "Take her to the holding cells," he ordered his men. "I'll deal with her after I secure the perimeter."

As the guards dragged a kicking, screaming Sabrina away, the wail of sirens pierced the night.

"Sir," Thomas, the security chief, rushed forward through the rain. "The Morettis. They aren't waiting. We just got word—three trucks breached the lower gate. They're coming for the house. Sabrina must have given them the signal before we caught her."

"Lock down the estate," Vincent ordered. He turned to Eleanor, his eyes burning with a fierce, desperate light. "Get to the panic room in the East Wing with Julian. Lock the vault. Do not open it for anyone but me."

"No," Eleanor said firmly.

Vincent blinked, taken aback. "Eleanor, this is not a request."

"I know the estate better than you do, Vincent," she argued, the quiet, submissive maid vanishing entirely. In her place was Ruth Hayes's granddaughter—a woman who refused to surrender. "I know the blind spots Sabrina exploited. I know the service corridors. You are blind on the western flank because the cameras are down. If you don't take me with you, they will breach the house in five minutes."

Vincent stared at her, the rain plastering her jagged hair to her cheeks. He saw the unyielding fire in her eyes, a strength that eclipsed any woman he had ever known. A dark, dangerous smile touched his lips.

He reached to his waist, drew his backup sidearm, and handed it to her.