Mafia Boss Followed His Maid After Work—Then Found His “Dead” Niece Hidden in a Basement...

The Gallion family helicopter landed directly on the manicured front lawn of the estate, its massive blades whipping up a storm of wind, dead leaves, and smoke.

Damien stepped out before the skids even touched the grass.

He looked like a force of nature. His tuxedo jacket was gone, his white shirt was rolled up at the sleeves, stained with soot and blood, and his green eyes burned with an apocalyptic fury that made even his own enforcers back away.

Behind him, two dozen heavily armed Gallion soldiers poured out of backup vehicles, completely swarming the grounds, securing every inch of the estate within minutes. The remaining O’Rourke thugs inside the house were disarmed, dragged out onto the driveway, and forced onto their knees.

Damien stormed through the ruined front entrance, his eyes wildly searching the smoky foyer.

“CHLOE!” he roared, his voice echoing off the high, shattered ceilings. “LILY!”

“We’re up here, Damien!” I called out from the top of the grand staircase.

Damien froze. He looked up.

I was standing at the landing, holding Lily tightly against my hip. Tommy stood beside me, leaning against the railing, smoking a casual cigarette despite the chaos.

Damien didn't take the stairs one by one. He bounded up the marble staircase three steps at a time, sprinting toward us.

He didn't say a word. He reached us, wrapped his long, powerful arms around both me and Lily, and pulled us into an embrace so tight I could barely breathe. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his entire body trembling violently.

“You’re safe...” Damien choked out, his voice thick with uncharacteristic tears. “Thank God... thank God...”

“Auntie Chloe beat up the bad men with fire,” Lily whispered proudly into his ear, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Damien pulled back slightly, looking at me with wide, disbelieving eyes. He looked at the soot on my face, the crowbar resting against the wall, and the heavy destruction down the hallway.

“You fought off an armed squad?” Damien asked, a mix of sheer horror and profound awe in his voice.

“They tried to touch our daughter,” I said softly, the word slipping out before I could even filter it.

Our daughter.

Damien’s eyes widened at the word. A soft, breathless smile broke through his bloody, dirt-smeared face. He leaned in, placing his hand behind my head, and pulled me into a fierce, passionate kiss right there on the ruined landing.

“Yes,” Damien whispered against my lips. “Our daughter.”

Before the moment could settle, Valen ran up the stairs, holding a satellite phone.

“Boss!” Valen called out, his face pale. “We’ve secured the grounds. O’Rourke was captured trying to flee through the harbor docks. We have him in the lower holding cells at the docks.”

The warmth in Damien’s eyes vanished, replaced instantly by the cold, lethal steel of the king of Boston.

He looked at me, silently asking for permission.

I looked down at Lily, then back at Damien. I reached out, gently wiping a streak of soot from his cheek.

“End it, Damien,” I said softly. “End it so she never has to hide in a basement again.”