561 "The Maid's Toddler Cried Alone Behind the Trash Cans—Unaware the Mafia Boss Heard Every Broken Word

The October sun rose over the Duca estate, burning away the mist and casting long, golden ribbons across the manicured lawns.

Inside the third-floor suite, Maya woke up tangled in the silk sheets of the massive king-sized bed, clutching her one-eyed stuffed rabbit. For the first time in three days, she didn't wake up shivering behind a trash can.

When she padded out into the private sitting room in her oversized white bathrobe, she found Lorenzo sitting at the mahogany desk, reviewing a stack of international shipping manifests while drinking black coffee.

Pino was already awake, sitting patiently by the door, his tail giving a single, heavy thump against the floor when he saw her.

"Morning, Maya," Lorenzo greeted without looking up from his papers, though his tone was entirely devoid of its usual boardroom sharpness.

"Morning, Big Man," she chirped, rubbing her sleepy eyes. "Where’s Mommy?"

"Your mother is downstairs helping Anna make pancakes," Lorenzo said, finally looking up. A faint smile touched his lips as he saw her standing there looking like a tiny ghost in his massive robe. "And downstairs, Maroni has already packed his bags."

Maya blinked. "Did he go to jail?"

"He went somewhere much less comfortable," Lorenzo replied dryly. "He went back to Sicily."

Before Maya could ask another question, the heavy double doors swung open, and Ranata walked in carrying a silver breakfast tray piled high with blueberry pancakes, syrup, and fresh scrambled eggs.

"Look who’s awake!" Ranata beamed, setting the tray on the coffee table. "Maya, honey, come eat your breakfast. We have to go back to our quarters down in the east wing today—Mr. Duca has arranged for a completely remodeled, larger apartment for us."

Maya stopped, her smile faltering slightly. She looked from her mother to Lorenzo, her small fingers clutching the edge of her oversized sleeve.

"Do we have to go back down there?" she whispered, her voice suddenly small again. "Does the trash can still live outside?"

Lorenzo’s expression hardened instantly. He set his pen down on the desk, stood up, and walked over to the sofa, kneeling down so he was eye-level with her once more.

"No, Maya," Lorenzo said, his voice ringing with absolute, unshakeable certainty. "You don't ever have to go back near the trash cans. In fact... I think your mother’s new apartment is entirely too far away from my office."

He looked up at Ranata, who stood frozen by the table.

"Ranata, starting today, your position is no longer head housemaid," Lorenzo instructed smoothly. "You are now my executive personal secretary and resident suite manager. Your quarters will be the guest suite directly adjacent to mine on this floor."

Ranata’s jaw dropped. She covered her mouth with her hands, tears spilling over her eyelashes. "Mr. Duca... I... I don't know what to say. I'm just a maid—I don't have experience in executive administration—"

"You have integrity, Ranata," Lorenzo interrupted gently. "And in this house, that is the rarest qualification of all."

Maya looked at Lorenzo with absolute, wide-eyed adoration, as if she were looking at a superhero straight out of a storybook.