A Mafia Heiress Poured Ice Water Over the Waitress—Then Her Brother Asked for the Waitress’s Employment File

"I'm coming, Miss Perry!" I called out, grabbing a plush white towel from the warming rack and rushing into the steamy bathroom.

Stella snatched it from my hands, her eyes wide and bloodshot. She looked like a ghost.

"I need a dress for tonight," she muttered, wrapping the towel tightly around her shivering frame. "The Mayor’s charity gala. Pick something black. I look fat in red."

"Yes, Miss Perry."

I hurried back to the closet, my mind spinning. Pier 44 at midnight. The gala started at 8:00 PM and usually ran late. Stella was planning to slip away from the most heavily guarded social event of the year to meet a blackmailer.

I needed to tell Leandro.

I picked a stunning black velvet gown and laid it on her bed.

"I need to fetch your jewelry from the main safe, Miss," I said smoothly.

"Hurry up," she snapped, moving to her vanity to apply thick layers of foundation to hide her pale skin.

I slipped out of the room and practically sprinted down the marble staircase toward Leandro’s private office.

The door was slightly ajar. I pushed it open, but he wasn't alone.

Leandro sat behind his massive mahogany desk. Standing in front of him were three men wearing leather jackets, sporting bruises and split lips.

"...we checked the warehouses, boss," one of the men growled. "The shipment is gone. Someone bypassed the security codes."

Leandro looked up, his dark eyes locking onto me standing frozen in the doorway.

"Out," he told his men.

The three bruisers glared at me as they filed out. I closed the door behind them, my hands shaking.

"You look pale, Maya," Leandro said, leaning back in his leather chair. "Did my sister finally break you?"

"She has a burner phone," I said rapidly, walking up to his desk. "She got a text. She's meeting someone tonight at Pier 44 at midnight. But Leandro... it's not just a debt. The text mentioned a video. They're blackmailing her."

Leandro’s eyes darkened, a storm brewing in their depths.

"A video," he repeated, his voice dangerously soft.