The Mafia Boss Thought His Secretary Was Protecting Him—Until the Truth About the Attacks Came Out

One year later.

The top floor of Moretti Tower had been completely redesigned.

The cold, intimidating walnut paneling had been replaced with bright, modern oak, expansive glass partitions, and vibrant modern art.

At the center of the executive reception area, a young, nervous young man in a crisp suit sat behind the front desk, answering incoming calls with frantic efficiency.

The heavy double doors of the private elevator chimed and opened.

Luca DeSantis stepped out, holding a silver leather briefcase in one hand, dressed in an impeccably tailored charcoal suit. Beside him walked Maya DeSantis.

She was radiant, her dark hair falling in loose waves over the shoulders of a tailored cream-colored silk coat. In her arms, wrapped in a soft cashmere blanket, was a three-month-old baby girl with dark curls and Luca’s piercing, intelligent eyes—Elena.

The new secretary jumped to his feet immediately, knocking over a pen in his haste.

“M-Mr. DeSantis! Mrs. DeSantis! Good morning!” the young man stammered, his face flushing red. “The board members from London are assembled in Conference Room A, and the shipping manifests from the Brooklyn port have been categorized according to your specifications!”

Luca stopped before the desk, looking at the flustered young man with an amused smirk.

“Did you check the vehicle fleet inspection logs this morning, Thomas?” Luca asked dryly.

Thomas blinked in terror. “Y-yes, sir! Inspected twice! Personally!”

Maya laughed softly, adjusting the blanket around little Elena, who gurgled happily at the sound of her mother’s voice.

“Relax, Thomas,” Maya said with a warm, encouraging smile. “You’re doing a wonderful job. Bring the revised quarterly reports to my office in fifteen minutes, please.”

“Yes, ma'am! Right away, Mrs. DeSantis!”

Luca wrapped an arm around Maya’s waist, guiding her down the sunlit corridor toward the corner office.

It was no longer just Luca’s office.

A magnificent new nameplate gleamed on the heavy double oak doors:

**DE SANTIS HOLDINGS**

*Luca & Maya DeSantis*

*Chief Executive Partners*

They entered the vast suite. The floor-to-ceiling glass windows offered an unobstructed, breathtaking panorama of the Manhattan skyline stretching out beneath a brilliant blue sky. The city below hummed with life, energy, and commerce—a city that was now at peace, ruled by an empire built on loyalty rather than fear.

Luca set his briefcase down, turned to Maya, and gently took Elena from her arms. He cradled his daughter against his broad chest, his rough, scarred fingers marvelously gentle as he brushed the baby’s soft cheek.

Elena smiled up at her father, grasping his index finger with her tiny hand.

Maya walked up beside them, resting her head against Luca’s shoulder, wrapping her arm around his waist.

“She has your eyes,” Maya whispered, looking down at their child.

“And she has her mother’s brains,” Luca replied, pressing a tender kiss to the crown of Maya’s head. “God help anyone who tries to cross her when she grows up.”

Maya laughed, the sound warm, rich, and completely carefree.

She looked out through the glass over the glittering towers of the city.

Two years ago, she had been a ghost living in fear, counting the seconds between life and death, waiting for the axe to fall. She had walked into this building intending to destroy the man beside her. Instead, she had found her salvation, her family, and a love that had defied every shadow of their past.

Luca turned toward her, shifting Elena into one arm so he could cup Maya’s chin with his free hand, tilting her face upward just as he had done on the night everything changed.

“Any more predictions for today, Mrs. DeSantis?” he asked softly, his dark eyes filled with endless warmth and devotion.

Maya looked into the eyes of the man who had given her everything, her heart swelling with absolute peace.

“Only one,” she murmured, leaning up on her tiptoes to press her lips softly against his.

“What’s that?”

Maya smiled against his mouth.