THE WAITRESS STOOD BETWEEN THE MAFIA KING’S SILENT DAUGHTER AND A BULLY—THEN HE STOOD BEFORE THE WHOLE CITY AND CALLED HER FAMILY

The ballroom was thick with tension. Eleanor stood frozen, completely humiliated in front of Chicago’s most ruthless gossips.

Before the society woman could formulate a response, the crowd parted like the Red Sea. Dominic Valenti stalked through the room, his face carved from ice. He had heard the commotion from across the hall, and the lethal darkness in his eyes made even the most hardened mob bosses take a step back.

He didn't look at Eleanor. He walked straight to Cassidy and Bella, placing a large, protective hand on the small of Cassidy’s back.

“Is there a problem here?” Dominic asked, his voice low and vibrating with menace.

Eleanor scrambled backward, terrified. “Dominic! We were just... welcoming your nanny to our circle. She is incredibly rude.”

Dominic finally turned his gaze to the woman.

“Miss Tate is not just a nanny,” Dominic announced, his voice carrying clearly over the dead-silent ballroom. “She is under my personal protection. She speaks for my daughter, and she speaks for me. Anyone who disrespects her disrespects the Valenti family.”

He took a slow, menacing step toward the group of women.

“If I ever hear of you insulting my family again, Eleanor, you will find that a federal indictment for embezzlement is the least of your husband’s problems. Am I clear?”

Eleanor went pale, nodding frantically before turning and practically running out of the ballroom.

Dominic turned back to Cassidy. The cold fury in his eyes vanished, replaced by a deep, undeniable admiration.

“I told you she was a charity case,” Dominic murmured, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “You handled them perfectly.”

“They insulted Bella,” Cassidy said, her heart still racing. “I won’t let anyone hurt her.”

“I know,” Dominic whispered. He looked at her not as an employee, but as an equal. A fierce protector who possessed the exact kind of iron spine required to survive in his world.

He offered her his arm. “Shall we dance, Miss Tate?”