No One Lasted More Than Three Days Caring for the Paralyzed Mafia Boss — Until a Shy, Penniless Maid Walked In and Did Something That Left His Entire Household Speechless

He brought three specialists to the estate, along with a lawyer and a stack of documents.

Fay watched from the hallway as they entered Dominic's room.

Vincent carried himself like a man attending his own coronation.

"This is temporary," he explained. "The board wants an independent assessment of your condition."

Dominic glanced at the lawyer.

"An assessment or a declaration that I'm incompetent?"

"Don't be dramatic."

"Leave."

The lead physician cleared his throat.

"Mr. Corso, your brother has requested a neurological and functional evaluation. You have the right to refuse, but—"

"I refuse."

Vincent's smile vanished.

"You can't keep pretending this isn't happening."

Dominic's jaw tightened.

"Get out of my house."

The lawyer placed a document on the bedside table.

"If you decline the assessment, the board may pursue an emergency guardianship petition."

Dominic looked at the paper.

Fay saw something she had never seen in him before.

Fear.

Not fear of Vincent.

Fear of losing the last piece of his life he still controlled.

When the visitors left, Dominic remained silent.

Fay collected the untouched breakfast.

"Don't," he said.

She stopped.

"Don't what?"

"Tell me everything will be fine."

"I wasn't going to."

He looked up.

"Everyone says that."

"Then everyone needs better material."

His mouth twitched.

She placed the tray on the table.

"Have you tried physical therapy recently?"

"Don't start."

"I'm asking."

"I spent four months in rehabilitation. I worked until I vomited. I endured procedures that left me unable to sleep. Nothing changed."

"Maybe the treatment wasn't right."

"Are you a doctor now?"

"No. I'm a maid who has seen you refuse breakfast three mornings in a row."

Dominic stared at her.

She continued before he could interrupt.

"You don't have to believe you can walk again. But you could stop treating every person who enters this room like an enemy."

His expression darkened.

"You have no idea what I've lost."

Fay's voice grew quieter.

"My father died believing he was a failure because he couldn't keep our family out of debt. I watched my mother work two jobs until her hands bled. I know what it looks like when someone decides the worst thing that happened to them is the only thing they'll ever be."

Dominic said nothing.

Fay regretted speaking so much.

She picked up the tray.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

She turned.

He was looking at the photograph of Elena.

"Tell Carmine to find a rehabilitation specialist. Someone who doesn't work for Vincent."

It was the first decision he had made for his own future in months.

That afternoon, Carmine returned with the name of a specialist in spinal cord injuries.

Dr. Hannah Reed had treated professional athletes and accident survivors, but she had refused to work with the Corso family after receiving an anonymous warning.

Dominic insisted they contact her again.

Meanwhile, Fay began examining the estate's old staff schedules.

She wasn't searching for secrets.

Not initially.

She wanted to know who had entered Dominic's room during the six months after his accident.

The records showed something strange.

On the night of the crash, the estate's security cameras had been switched off for seventeen minutes.

The person who authorized the shutdown was listed as Carmine Russo.

Fay stared at the page.

Carmine had protected Dominic for years. He had been at the hospital every day after the accident. He was the one person Dominic trusted without hesitation.

But the record was unmistakable.

That evening, Fay approached him in the garage.

"Can I ask you something?"

Carmine glanced up from his car.

"That depends."

"Why were the security cameras turned off the night Mr. Corso crashed?"

His face became unreadable.

"Where did you get that information?"

"The staff records."

He closed the hood.

"You shouldn't be looking at those."

"Why were they off?"