The Mafia Boss Watched a Waitress Save His Mother—Then Promised She Would Never Be Alone Again

Back at the Russo estate, Sadi was discovering that being a mafia boss's wife came with an entirely absurd set of golden handcuffs.

By her second week, she had tried three times to escape the sprawling kitchen—not to run away, but simply to brew her own coffee and cook her own eggs. Each time, she was gently but firmly intercepted by a towering man in a dark suit named Leo, who looked like a linebacker and spoke with the polite, unflappable demeanor of a British butler.

"I am perfectly capable of frying an egg, Leo," Sadi sighed, leaning against the marble kitchen island as the chef—a stern-faced Italian man named Mateo—watched nervously from the stove.

"Mr. Russo’s explicit instructions, Mrs. Russo," Leo replied, his expression entirely devoid of humor. "Kitchen staff handles all meal preparation. Your security detail requires you to remain within the primary perimeter."

Sadi threw her hands up in exasperation. "I'm going stir-crazy! I used to carry twenty trays an hour through a crowded diner while dodging greasy truckers. Now I’m walking laps around a limestone mansion like a pampered Persian cat!"

"A very expensive cat," a deep voice rumbled from the arched doorway.

Dominic walked into the kitchen, having just returned from an early morning meeting at the docks. He shrugged off his heavy overcoat, handing it to Leo without breaking eye contact with Sadi. He looked impossibly sharp in a navy three-piece suit, his sleeves rolled up slightly to reveal the muscular forearms that had pulled her from the floor of the diner.

"Dismissed," Dominic told the kitchen staff. Mateo and Leo cleared the room instantly, leaving the two of them alone in the cavernous, sunlit kitchen.

Sadi crossed her arms, glaring at him. "Your babysitters are driving me insane, Dominic. If I wanted to be guarded twenty-four seven, I would’ve committed a federal crime myself."

"You essentially did," Dominic noted dryly, walking over to the espresso machine. "You committed the crime of saving my mother’s life. In my world, that carries a life sentence of luxury and confinement."

"I want to go outside," she said, her voice dropping into a stubborn, pleading tone. "Beyond the gates. I want to feel normal air, buy a cheap book at a corner store, and drink coffee out of a paper cup that leaks down my thumb."

Dominic paused, holding a freshly brewed espresso cup. He looked at her for a long, quiet moment, his gray eyes softening just a fraction. He knew the claustrophobia was eating away at her. Sadi was a survivor, a street-smart girl who had fought for every inch of her meager existence; keeping her locked behind limestone walls was like caging a wild hawk.

"Tomorrow," Dominic said quietly.

Sadi blinked, caught off guard. "Tomorrow what?"

"Tomorrow, I have a meeting with the port authorities downtown. You're coming with me."

Her eyes widened. "You're taking me out of the estate? What about the Morettis? What about the targets on my back?"

"They won't expect you to leave the fortress," Dominic said, stepping closer until she could feel the heat radiating off him. "And they certainly won't expect you to ride in the front seat of my personal car. But if you come, you follow my rules. Every single one of them. No wandering off. No arguing with the detail. Understood?"