"A billionaire’s son shoved me to the marble floor of a packed Manhattan restaurant, then stood over me while wealthy strangers watched in silence. He thought I was just a waitress he could humiliate without consequences, until the most feared man in the room pushed back his chair and stood up.

“How did he know?” I asked, staring at the massive bodyguard.

“Mr. DeLuca makes it his business to know everything,” Marco replied smoothly. He glanced at the crumpled yellow eviction notice still clutched in my fist. “I see the Caldwells have been busy this morning.”

“I have twenty-four hours to pack my life into boxes,” I said, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. “And nowhere to take them.”

“Pack a single bag,” Marco instructed. “My men will handle the rest of your belongings later today.”

I frowned, confused and defensive. “What? Pack a bag for where?”

“The boss wants to see you. He has an offer for you.”

I didn't have a choice. I grabbed my duffel bag, threw in some clothes and my mother’s medical files, and followed Marco down to the waiting SUV.

We didn't drive into Manhattan. We drove north, out of the city, toward the sprawling, heavily wooded estates of upstate New York.

Marco pulled through massive wrought-iron gates, up a long, winding driveway lined with ancient oak trees. The DeLuca Estate was a fortress of stone and glass, perched on a cliff overlooking the Hudson River.

I was escorted into a massive, sunlit study filled with walls of books and the scent of rich leather.

Victor was standing by the window, pouring two cups of dark espresso. He wore a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing the intricate, dark tattoos wrapping around his forearms.

He handed me a cup.

“Drink,” he commanded softly. “You look pale.”

“Ethan Caldwell got me fired and evicted,” I blurted out, unable to hold back the panic.

“I know,” Victor said, his eyes darkening with a quiet, lethal anger. “He is a coward attacking the only vulnerable target he can reach.”

“What do I do?” I whispered.

“You come to work for me,” Victor said smoothly. “I own the largest luxury nightclub in the city, The Obsidian. You will be my new floor manager. Your salary will be triple what you made at the restaurant. And you will live here, on the estate, where Ethan Caldwell cannot touch you.”

I stared at him, the espresso cup trembling in my hands.

“Why?” I asked. “Why are you doing this for me?”