“Don't Be Afraid… I'm Here,” Poor Waitress Said — She Took a Hit For The Mafia Boss's Sister

Three weeks later, the Boston winter arrived in full force, coating the brownstones of Beacon Hill in a thick, sparkling blanket of snow.

Inside the Collazo estate, the atmosphere was festive and alive.

The grand salon was decorated with a towering twelve-foot spruce tree adorned with gold ribbons and crystal ornaments. Finn, now fully recovered and sporting pink, healthy cheeks, was racing around the room with Captain the bear tucked under his arm, completely free of the breathlessness that had haunted his entire childhood.

"Finn, slow down!" Sofia laughed from the sofa, where she was finishing a colored sketch of Finn wearing a pirate hat. "Dr. Vance said light cardio, not Olympic sprinting!"

"I'm fast now, Sofia! Look at my turbo boost!" Finn cheered, skidding across the rug toward the double doors.

Mave stood near the French doors overlooking the snowy courtyard, holding a mug of hot cocoa. Her orthopedic sling was finally gone; her shoulder was healing well under daily physical therapy, leaving only a faint silver line where the surgeon had repaired the bone.

She watched her brother run, her heart full to bursting.

Footsteps sounded behind her.

Rafe approached, dressed in a tailored black suit without a tie, holding two glasses of vintage champagne. He handed one to Mave, his fingers brushing against hers, sending that familiar, delicious shiver down her spine.

"He has too much energy," Rafe observed, a fond smile gracing his lips as he watched Finn challenge Dante to an arm-wrestling contest near the fireplace.

"He's never had energy before," Mave said softly, turning to look at Rafe. "He spent his whole life sitting on benches watching other kids run. You gave him that, Rafe."

"We gave him that," Rafe corrected.

Mave looked down at her champagne, her expression becoming contemplative. "The news said Vincenzo Moretti was arrested by the FBI two days ago. Racketeering, conspiracy, attempted murder. His entire syndicate has crumbled."

"The harbor is clean," Rafe said simply. "And Collazo Maritime has finalized the transition into fully legitimate port logistics. No more shadows, Mave. No more threats."

Mave swallowed hard. "Then... our time here is up."

Rafe went utterly still. He set his champagne glass down on a side table, turning his full, undivided attention to her.

"What did you say?"

"Finn is healthy now," Mave said, trying to steady her voice against the ache tearing through her chest. "The danger is gone. We can't stay in your mansion forever, Rafe. We need to find an apartment. I need to get back to work. I can't keep taking from you."

"Taking from me?" Rafe took a step forward, his eyes burning with an intense, dark fire. "You think you are taking from me?"

"I don't belong in this world, Rafe," she whispered, her eyes pleading with him to understand. "Look at this house. Look at who you are. I'm a waitress from Charlestown who carries soup plates for eight dollars an hour."

Rafe closed the distance between them in a heartbeat. He took the champagne flute from her trembling hand, set it aside, and gripped both of her wrists, pinning her gently against the frame of the French doors.

"Do you really think this was ever about a debt of honor?" he demanded, his voice low, rough, and vibrating with raw passion. "Do you think I brought you into my home, slept outside your hospital door, and tore this city apart just because you saved my sister?"

Mave’s breath hitched, her eyes wide. "Rafe..."

"I fell in love with you the second you threw yourself over Sofia," Rafe confessed, his gaze searing into hers with unyielding truth. "I fell in love with your courage. With your stubborn, infuriating pride. With the way you fight for the people you love. You brought light into this tomb of a house, Mave. You brought life back to my sister. You brought a son into my heart."

He released her wrists, his hands rising to cup her face, his thumbs stroking her cheekbones.

"If you walk out that door, you take my soul with you," Rafe said, his voice dropping to an intimate whisper. "Don't go back to that old life. Stay here. Build an empire with me. Be my partner. Be my wife."

Tears sprang to Mave’s eyes, but this time they were born of pure, overwhelming joy.

Every doubt, every fear, every scar from her years of struggling dissolved in the warmth of his embrace. She realized she had fallen for him weeks ago—not because of his wealth or power, but because behind the fearsome reputation lay a man willing to burn the world to protect the people he cherished.

"I love you, Rafe," she whispered.

Rafe didn't wait another second. He pulled her flush against his chest and brought his mouth down on hers.

The kiss was fierce, possessive, and filled with a lifetime of promise. Mave wrapped her arms around his neck, sinking into his warmth, feeling the steady, powerful beat of his heart against her ribs.

From across the room, a loud cheer erupted.

"Yes! I knew it!" Finn yelled, throwing Captain the bear into the air while Sofia clapped with delight and Dante shook his head with a rare, genuine grin.

Rafe broke the kiss slightly, resting his forehead against Mave’s, a breathless laugh escaping his chest.

"It seems the household approves," Rafe murmured against her lips.