Everyone called me a disgraceful maid who had ruined a high-society gala, but no one knew the deadly secret I was protecting for my employer’s mother. Just when his fiancée was about to destroy me completely, he stepped in with a truth that left the entire room silent.

The immediate aftermath of the press conference was a whirlwind of legal chaos. By nightfall, news stations worldwide were broadcasting the shocking downfall of the Ashford empire. Camila Ashford and her father had been arrested at their private airstrip while attempting to board a plane to Switzerland. The Ashford stock had collapsed, leaving their logistics empire ripe for a hostile acquisition.

And I was no longer living in the servants' quarters.

Enzo had permanently moved me into the grand suite on the third floor—the wing reserved exclusively for the core Marquetti family. My plain cotton uniforms were replaced with racks of designer clothes, soft cashmere sweaters, and expensive leather shoes.

I sat on the edge of the velvet sofa, staring out the massive balcony doors at the sprawling estate grounds. Though I was treated like royalty, I felt more like a prisoner than ever before.

A knock sounded at the door, and Julian Vane stepped inside.

“Good evening, Miss Croft,” Julian said respectfully, holding a tablet under his arm. “Mr. Marquetti asked me to check on you.”

“Julian, please,” I said, standing up. “Call me Adeline. I’m not a 'Miss'. Two days ago, I was scrubbing the floors in the east wing.”

Julian smiled thinly, though his eyes remained sharp and watchful. “Things change quickly in this house, Adeline. Mr. Marquetti has ordered a permanent security detail for you. Two armed guards will accompany you whenever you leave this room.”

“Guards?” I frowned. “Why? Camila and her father are in jail.”

“Arthur Ashford has powerful associates,” Julian explained, his tone darkening. “Men who lost hundreds of millions of dollars when the shipping merger failed today. They blame Mr. Marquetti, and by extension, they know you are his weakest link.”

His weakest link. The phrase struck a nerve.

“I am not his link at all,” I muttered, crossing my arms. “I was just caught in the middle.”

“If Mr. Marquetti didn't care about your safety, he would have paid you off and sent you away on a bus last night,” Julian noted quietly. “In the ten years I have served as his head of security, I have never seen him carry anyone in his arms. I have never seen him put his own body between a weapon and another person. Think about that.”

Before I could process Julian’s words, heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway. Enzo walked into the suite, unbuttoning his vest and tossing his suit jacket onto a chair. He looked exhausted, shadows darkening the skin under his eyes, but his presence was as overwhelming as ever.

“Leave us, Julian,” Enzo ordered.

Julian bowed slightly and retreated, locking the door behind him.

Enzo walked over to the small bar in the corner of the room, pouring himself two fingers of dark scotch. He took a slow sip, staring at me over the rim of the glass.

“You didn't eat your dinner,” Enzo remarked, gesturing toward the untouched silver tray on the dining table.

“I’m not hungry,” I replied softly. “Mr. Marquetti, what is happening? Why am I being kept up here like a trophy? I want to go back to my life.”

Enzo laughed softly, setting his glass down on the table with a firm click.

“Your old life is over, Adeline,” he said, stepping closer to me. “The entire world knows your face. The press is camping outside the gates. Camila’s allies would love nothing more than to put a bullet in your head to send me a message. You go outside those gates alone, and you won't survive twenty-four hours.”

“Then let me go back to my home town!” I pleaded, taking a step toward him. “I have a small apartment in the city. My mother’s old house—”

“Your mother’s old house was searched by unknown men three hours ago,” Enzo interrupted coldly.

My heart stopped. Cold fear gripped my chest. “What?”

“They tore the place apart looking for anything they could use against you or me,” Enzo revealed, his eyes burning into mine. “I had my men intercept them, but the message is clear. You are in the line of fire now, Adeline. Because you saved my mother, you are tied to me.”

I sank back onto the sofa, my hands trembling. My small, quiet life—the peaceful anonymity I had worked so hard to build after my mother died—was completely shattered.

Enzo walked over and sat beside me on the velvet sofa. The scent of his sandalwood cologne enveloped me. He reached out, his long fingers gently grasping my chin, forcing me to look up into his striking gray eyes.

“I know you are scared,” Enzo murmured, his tone unexpectedly gentle. “I know this isn't the life you asked for. But I protect what belongs to me, Adeline.”

“I don't belong to you,” I whispered, though my breath caught in my throat at his proximity.

“You do now,” Enzo corrected softly, his thumb tracing the contour of my lower lip. “Because I am the only thing standing between you and the monsters outside that gate. And whether you like it or not, I will keep you safe.”

His gaze dropped to my lips for a fleeting second, and a strange, electric tension pulled tight between us. My heart hammered wildly against my ribs, not out of fear, but out of something far more dangerous.

Before either of us could move, a sharp, urgent alarm began to blare throughout the estate.

Red emergency lights flashed in the hallway outside the room.

Enzo instantly stood up, his soft expression vanishing, replaced by lethal instinct. He pulled a compact black pistol from his shoulder holster in a single fluid motion.