He Knocked a Waitress Unconscious—Then the Mafia Boss Destroyed Him Within Seconds

For the next two weeks, Amelia was a prisoner of luxury.

The Castellano estate was sprawling and beautiful, sitting on twenty acres of prime waterfront property. She had access to a massive library, a private chef who cooked her whatever she craved, and Dr. Rossi checking her vitals daily. But despite the velvet curtains and the silk sheets, she felt a profound, suffocating restlessness.

She missed the smell of cheap coffee. She missed Tiny the trucker’s booming laugh. She missed the simple, honest work that kept her mind from wandering into the dark alleys of her past.

One afternoon, she found Vincent in his private study. The room smelled of rich leather and expensive cigars. He was sitting behind a massive oak desk, reviewing ledgers.

Amelia knocked gently on the open door frame.

Vincent looked up, his severe expression instantly softening when he saw her. “Amelia. Come in. Do you need anything? Is the room too cold?”

“No, everything is perfect,” Amelia said, walking into the room and crossing her arms. “Too perfect, actually. Dr. Rossi cleared me this morning. My ribs are bruised, but nothing is broken. I want to go back to work.”

Vincent closed the leather ledger, giving her his full attention. “You don't need to work, Amelia. I told you, your rent is covered. I have established a bank account in your name—”

“I don't want your money, Mr. Castellano,” Amelia interrupted, her voice firm despite the intimidating environment. “I didn't ask for a buyout. I asked for a job. Working at the diner… it’s the only thing that makes me feel like I have control over my own life. If you won't let me work there, I’ll find a job somewhere else.”

Vincent stared at her. Women usually threw themselves at him for a fraction of the wealth he was offering her, but Amelia looked at his money like it was a trap. She was fiercely, beautifully independent.

“You will not work anywhere else,” Vincent stated, standing up and walking around the desk. “The city is dangerous. But if you insist on pouring coffee, you will do it under my roof.”