THE MAFIA BOSS’S FIANCÉE TOLD ME TO SEAT HIS SEVENTY-EIGHT-YEAR-OLD FORMER HOUSEKEEPER IN THE KITCHEN—BUT WHEN I BROUGHT HER TO THE ENGAGEMENT TABLE, LUCA MORETTI STOOD UP AND CALLED HER “MAMA ROSA.”

Two weeks later.

The Gold Coast mansion felt entirely different. The suffocating tension that had lingered during Vanessa's presence was completely gone.

As the new household manager, I had completely reorganized the staff operations. The workers were treated with respect, paid fair wages, and no longer forced to enter through the drafty basement doors.

Rosa had moved into a beautiful guest cottage on the estate grounds, spending her mornings baking pies and tending to the gardens.

I stood in the main library, reviewing the monthly inventory on a tablet, when a knock sounded at the door.

Luca walked in, wearing a sharp grey suit. He looked relaxed, healthier than he had in months.

"How are the new staff arrangements?" he asked, leaning against the edge of the mahogany desk.

"Everything is running smoothly, Luca," I replied with a warm smile. "The staff is happy, and the estate budget is actually down twelve percent."

"I didn't hire you to save me money, Emma," Luca said softly, stepping closer to the desk. "I hired you because you bring peace to this house."

I felt a sudden warmth in my cheeks. "I'm just doing my job."

Luca reached out, gently placing his hand over mine on the desk. "My mother wrote another line in that letter, Emma. Something I didn't read out loud to the room."