Chapter 1
"At 3:07 A.M., New York's most feared mafia boss caught me whispering ""I love you more than anything"" into my phone, and the look on his face terrified me. For eighteen months, I'd worked as Kieran Blackwood's maid without realizing he had feelings for me. But when he demanded to know who I loved, a hospital bill for $18,640.72 slipped from my robe—and suddenly, his jealousy turned into something far more dangerous.
My name is Saraphina Torres, and I'm a live-in housekeeper at the Blackwood estate in Westchester, New York.
My employer is thirty-nine-year-old Kieran Blackwood.
Six feet three inches tall, broad-shouldered, and powerful enough to make dangerous men lower their eyes.
To the newspapers, he's a private businessman.
To everyone else, he's a mafia boss.
I'd worked in his mansion for eighteen months, cleaning his rooms, preparing his meals, and staying out of his business.
I never asked about the armed guards.
Never questioned the late-night meetings.
And never gave him a reason to look twice at me.
At least, that's what I believed.
But I had a secret.
Every Sunday, I took the train into Manhattan.
Every spare dollar I earned disappeared into medical bills.
And every night, I went to sleep praying someone I loved would survive another day.
That particular night, I couldn't sleep.
So I slipped downstairs wearing my old gray robe and fuzzy socks.
My hair was loose, and I'd barely eaten anything all day.
I sat at the kitchen island with a few crackers and dialed a familiar number.
""Please,"" I whispered. ""Just hold on a little longer. I'll get the money somehow.""
I listened for a moment.
Then my voice broke.
""I love you more than anything. You know that, right?""
That's when a deep voice spoke behind me.
""Who are you talking to?""
I nearly dropped my phone.
Kieran Blackwood stood in the doorway.
Barefoot.
Wearing dark pants and a black shirt.
His icy expression made my stomach tighten.
""Mr. Blackwood!""
""Who was that?""
I stared at him.
""It's three in the morning.""
""I'm aware.""
""Then why are you interrogating me?""
His jaw tightened.
""Because you're sitting in my kitchen whispering like you're hiding something.""
I laughed bitterly.
""Your kitchen?""
His eyes narrowed.
""You live here.""
""I work here.""
Silence fell between us.
I slipped my phone into my robe pocket.
""Good night, Mr. Blackwood.""
But as I approached the doorway, he stepped in front of me.
I stopped.
My eyes flickered toward the hallway.
Something changed in his expression.
He immediately moved aside.
""I'm not stopping you.""
""Then what exactly are you doing?""
His gaze dropped toward my phone.
""Boyfriend?""
I blinked.
Then I understood.
""Oh my God.""
""What?""
""You're jealous.""
Kieran went completely still.
For a moment, I forgot he was the man everyone in New York feared.
He looked almost embarrassed.
""Answer my question,"" he said.
I folded my arms.
""Who exactly do you think I'm dating? I work twelve-hour shifts here, sleep four hours a night, and spend my only day off traveling into Manhattan.""
His expression sharpened.
""Manhattan?""
I regretted the words immediately.
""Never mind.""
""Why do you go there every Sunday?""
""That's personal.""
""Saraphina.""
He rarely used my first name.
Hearing it made my throat tighten.
""Please, Mr. Blackwood.""
His eyes moved over my face.
For the first time, he seemed to notice how exhausted I was.
The dark circles beneath my eyes.
My trembling hands.
The crackers I'd barely touched.
Then his gaze dropped to the folded paper sticking out of my robe pocket.
A hospital invoice.
$18,640.72.
I quickly shoved it deeper into my pocket.
""You didn't see that.""
Kieran's expression changed.
The jealousy disappeared.
""Who's sick?""
""Nobody you need to worry about.""
""Who, Saraphina?""
I shook my head.
""Please. Just let me handle it.""
He took one careful step closer.
""Is someone threatening you?""
""No.""
""Then why are you crying alone in my kitchen at three in the morning?""
I tried to answer.
But my voice wouldn't come.
Because the person I'd been calling wasn't my boyfriend.
And the money I needed wasn't for myself.
I had spent eighteen months hiding a truth that could cost me my job—and now the most dangerous man in New York was standing in front of me, determined to uncover it.
Kieran lowered his voice.
""Tell me who you were talking to. I won't ask again.""
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My eyes filled with tears.
And when I finally whispered the name, he stopped breathing. ...The entire story is in the comment 👇👇 and Comment ""WOW"" if you want to read the full story"
