A Poor Maid Punched the Mafia Boss to Save Him — What He Did Next Terrified Everyone

The private elevator to the penthouse moved with absolute, terrifying silence. Lena stood rigidly in the corner of the mahogany-paneled car, her arms wrapped around her waist. Victor stood in the center, a towering monolith of dark energy, bleeding slightly from his lip.

When the doors opened, he led her into a sprawling, multi-million-dollar suite that overlooked the glittering Manhattan skyline.

"Sit," Victor ordered, pointing to a stark white leather sofa.

Lena obeyed, her knees shaking so badly she practically collapsed onto the cushions.

Victor walked over to a crystal decanter, poured two fingers of amber liquid, and downed it in one smooth motion. He poured a second glass and walked it over to her, pressing it into her trembling hands.

"Drink it," he commanded softly. "It will stop the shaking."

She took a sip. The whiskey burned brilliantly down her throat, settling the icy panic in her stomach.

Victor pulled up a chair, sitting directly across from her. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, invading her space in a way that felt entirely deliberate.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"Lena. Lena Hart."

"Well, Lena Hart," Victor said, his eyes scanning her pale face. "You have a hell of a right hook."

"I'm sorry," she blurted out, tears of sheer adrenaline finally spilling over. "I didn't know what else to do. If I had shouted, he would have played it off. If I tried to grab the tray, security would have stopped me. Hitting you was the only way to make you drop the glass."

A faint, dark smile touched the corner of his mouth. "It was highly effective."

"Are you going to kill him?" Lena whispered, staring down at her scuffed black flats.

"Leon broke the oath of the syndicate," Victor stated flatly. "His fate was sealed the moment he uncorked that vial. But that is not what concerns me right now."

He reached out, his long fingers gently catching her chin, forcing her to look up and meet his gaze. His touch sent a strange, electric jolt straight to her core.

"What concerns me, Lena, is why a catering waitress with a minimum-wage job would risk her own life to save a man she knows is a criminal."

"I didn't think about who you were," she said honestly, her breath catching as his thumb brushed lightly against her jaw. "I just saw a man about to die. I couldn't let it happen."

Victor’s eyes darkened, searching her face for a lie and finding none. "In my world, nobody saves a life without expecting something in return. What do you want, Lena?"