The Mafia Boss Came Home Early—Then His Maid Grabbed His Arm and Whispered, “Don’t Make a Sound
Multiple figures.
They moved with purpose, searching through his personal belongings with the confidence of people who believed they had all the time in the world.
One shadow paused near his nightstand.
Another moved toward his private safe, hidden behind the oil painting of his grandfather.
Elena’s grip tightened.
Her whisper was barely a breath.
“3 men.
Armed.
They’ve been here for 20 minutes, waiting for you to come home.”
Vincent’s mind raced through possibilities.
His security team should have detected any breach.
His surveillance system covered every angle of the property.
The fact that these intruders had bypassed everything meant only one thing.
Someone on the inside had given them the keys to his kingdom.
The bedroom door opened wider.
Footsteps approached the closet.
Elena pressed Vincent deeper into the shadows, her body shielding him as expensive fabric rustled around them.
Then a voice cut through the silence.
Cold.
Familiar.
“Check every room again.
He should have been here by now.”
Vincent’s blood turned to ice.
That voice belonged to his nephew, Marcus.
The boy Vincent had raised after his brother’s death.
The young man he had groomed to inherit pieces of his empire.
The family member he had trusted with his life.
Elena’s eyes reflected the same shock Vincent felt.
She had recognized the voice, too.
But her expression shifted from surprise to something else.
Knowledge.
As if this betrayal was not news to her.
Another voice joined Marcus in the bedroom.
“Maybe he changed his plans.
The old man’s getting paranoid in his age.”
“No,” Marcus replied, his tone sharp with the authority Vincent had taught him.
“He’s coming.
Tony confirmed he left the warehouse an hour ago.
Vincent never deviates from his routine.”
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