His Fiancée Threatened the Maid in Private—Unaware the Mafia Boss Was Still Listening

Months passed, turning winter into a bright, blooming spring along the Newport cliffs.

The transition from caregiver to the partner of the syndicate boss was not without its challenges. Marin refused to stop working with Isabella, insisting that her role as a caregiver kept her grounded.

Dominic, terrifyingly protective, compromised by hiring two specialized nurses to assist her, ensuring Marin never overexerted herself.

The underworld quickly learned that the new woman at Dominic Virelli’s side was not a decorative trophy like Vivien Morrow. Marin was quiet, observant, and possessed a spine of steel. She sat in on meetings when Dominic needed a read on a new associate, her intuition proving sharper than any background check.

“He’s lying about the shipping manifests,” Marin told Dominic quietly after a meeting with a local distributor.

Dominic looked at her, amused. “How do you know?”

“He kept touching his watch band every time he mentioned the cargo numbers,” she explained, pouring him a cup of coffee. “It’s a nervous tic. People do it when they’re trying to remember the lie they rehearsed.”

Dominic investigated. She was right. The distributor had been skimming profits. He was swiftly removed.

“I should put you on the payroll as an interrogator,” Dominic teased her one evening as they walked along the cliffside path behind the mansion.

“I think I prefer my current title,” Marin laughed, leaning against his side.

“Which is?”

“The only person in Rhode Island who isn't afraid to tell you you're wrong,” she smiled.

Dominic stopped walking, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close against the cold sea breeze. “I hope you never stop.”

Their peaceful evening was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Carlo, Dominic’s oldest guard, walked down the path, looking uncomfortable.

“Boss, apologies for the interruption,” Carlo grunted. “But you have a visitor at the front gate. He’s demanding to speak with Marin.”

Marin frowned. “Me? Who is it?”

Carlo hesitated. “He says his name is Andrew. He claims to be your former fiancé.”

Marin’s blood ran cold. Andrew. The man who had abandoned her when she took in Eli. The man who hadn't spoken to her in five years.

Dominic’s posture instantly shifted. The relaxed, affectionate man vanished, replaced by the lethal syndicate boss. His jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing into dark slits.