The Mafia Boss Had Turned Down Every Woman—But One Night, His Maid Changed Everything

The sharp tension in the study spiked instantly, cutting through the fragile atmosphere between Gunther and Kayla. Gunther’s relaxed posture vanished, replaced by the coiled, lethal stillness of a predator scenting blood. He pushed away from the desk, his eyes locking onto his underboss.

“What do you mean, she didn't take the severance?” Gunther asked, his voice dropping into a dangerous, icy register.

Victor stepped closer, casting a brief, suspicious glance at Kayla before turning his full attention back to his boss. “She sent the Cartier watch back. It was delivered to the front gates thirty minutes ago wrapped in a dead rose and a note written in red ink. She’s outside.”

Kayla’s breath hitched. She instinctively stood up, gathering the manila folder against her chest. “Should I... should I leave? I can go back to the laundry room.”

“Stay,” Gunther commanded, holding up a single hand without looking away from Victor. He turned his gaze back to his underboss. “How did she get past the perimeter security? The guards were ordered to stand down on patrols, but the gate sensors should have flagged any unauthorized vehicle.”

“She didn't come through the gate, Gabe,” Victor said, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. “She climbed the rear cliffside trail through the woods. She’s standing on the back terrace right now, banging on the glass doors of the drawing room, screaming your name and holding a bottle of accelerant.”

Gunther let out a low, venomous curse. He reached down to the small of his back, slipping his SIG Sauer back into its shoulder holster with practiced ease. “She’s trying to force a public spectacle. She thinks if she makes enough noise, I’ll fold.”

“What do you want me to do?” Victor asked, his hand resting on his weapon. “Do we take her down to the basement holding room? Do we call the local police and let them deal with a trespassing ex-girlfriend?”

“If the police get involved, the press gets involved,” Gunther growled, walking toward the heavy mahogany doors. “And I don't need the local tabloids sniffing around my estate. Victor, secure the perimeter. Make sure no one else gets in.”

Kayla stepped forward, her voice cutting through the heavy tension in the room. “Mr. Woods—wait.”

Gunther stopped, turning his head slightly to look back at her over his shoulder. “Stay inside the study, Kayla. This isn't your world.”

“It is my world now,” Kayla said, her voice steady despite the trembling in her hands. “You just hired me to manage this house. And right now, there is a desperate, unhinged woman setting a fire on your back terrace. If you go out there alone looking like an executioner, she’s going to record it on her phone or stream it live to half the city's underground.”

Gunther stared at her, caught off guard by the fierce, unexpected steel in her eyes. Victor scoffed, shaking his head. “Gabe, don't listen to the maid. She doesn't know what Jacqueline is capable of.”