595 "A four-year-old maid’s daughter used her last EpiPen to save the dying mafia boss everyone feared—after someone inside his own mansion poisoned his wine. But as I knelt beside him, one hidden camera was about to expose the traitor who had watched him collapse.

Six months passed. Spring arrived in New York, blooming with cherry blossoms across the estate’s grand gardens.

Emma’s medical progress was nothing short of miraculous. Under the care of the world’s top immunologists at Johns Hopkins, her sensitivity to peanuts had decreased significantly through low-dose oral immunotherapy. Though she still carried her pink rabbit backpack everywhere, the fear that had once governed her mother’s life was gone.

However, a new drama was brewing within the high-society circles of New York.

Word had reached the media that Alejandro Moretti—the most eligible, feared, and wealthy bachelor in the tri-state area—had adopted a maid and her four-year-old daughter into his private residence. Gossip columns and rival elite families speculated wildly about Elena’s origins, accusing her of being a gold-digger who had manipulated the Don.

At an exclusive charity gala hosted at the Plaza Hotel to launch the Emma Moretti Foundation, several high-society matriarchs gathered near the champagne fountain, glaring at Elena, who looked stunning in a tailored navy silk gown.

Victoria Vance—the arrogant wife of corrupt Judge Vance, who had backed Dante’s failed coup—approached Elena with a fake, condescending smile.

“My dear,” Victoria said loudly, making sure the surrounding guests could hear. “It’s truly remarkable how far a basement maid can rise just by throwing her child in front of a mafia Don. Tell us, Elena... what cleaning solution do you recommend for velvet? I’m looking for new domestic help at my estate.”

Several wealthy guests snickered quietly behind their crystal glasses.

Elena’s cheeks flushed red. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say a word, a heavy hand rested gently on her shoulder.

Alejandro stepped up beside Elena. He wore a dark tuxedo, his presence towering over the room like a dark storm cloud. The snickering instantly died down.

Alejandro looked down at Victoria Vance with absolute disdain.

“Mrs. Vance,” Alejandro said, his deep voice carrying clearly across the ballroom. “It’s interesting you mention domestic work. Since your husband Judge Vance was arrested three hours ago by federal agents for accepting bribes from my traitorous brother, your estate in Long Island has been seized by the state.”

Victoria’s face turned white as chalk. “What?! My husband... arrested?!”

“Yes,” Alejandro smiled coldly. “And since you will be evicted by morning, I suggest you ask Elena for advice on how to survive on a low budget. Though I doubt you have half the dignity or strength she possesses.”

Victoria gasped, dropping her champagne glass onto the carpet, before fleeing the ballroom in absolute disgrace.

Alejandro turned to Elena, taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles gently in front of two hundred high-society guests.