“The Maid Was Crying in the Mafia Boss’s Kitchen — He Locked the Door and Asked, ‘Who Hurt You?’”

By the end of the month, Seraphina’s transformation was complete. She had learned to walk with her head held high, her voice steady and clear. But the true test of her new life came when Ronan announced they would be attending the annual Chicago Symphony Gala.

"It is a public event," Ronan told her in his study. "All of Chicago’s elite will be there. The mayors, the developers, the judges. And my rivals. It is important that you are by my side."

"Mr. Vale, I don't belong in such places," Seraphina pleaded. "I am a maid."

"You were a maid," Ronan corrected her, standing up and walking over to her. He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a long velvet box. He opened it to reveal a stunning diamond necklace, the stones sparkling like ice under the study lights. "Tonight, you are the most elegant woman in Chicago. And you are with me."

He stepped behind her, his warm breath brushing against her neck as he fastened the heavy necklace around her throat. His fingers lingered on her collarbone, and this time, she didn't flinch. Instead, she leaned slightly into his touch, her heart beating with a strange, new warmth.

The gala was held in a massive, glittering ballroom in the Loop. Hundreds of wealthy guests moved beneath crystal chandeliers, sipping champagne and talking in hushed, polite voices.

When Ronan entered the room with Seraphina on his arm, a hush fell over the crowd.

Seraphina wore a stunning, backless emerald green silk dress that clung to her curves, her dark hair pinned up in an elegant chignon. She looked like a queen, but inside, she was trembling. She could feel the stares of the crowd, the whispers of the high-society women, and the sharp, calculating looks of the men who did business with Ronan.

"Stay close to me," Ronan whispered in her ear, his hand resting securely on the small of her back. "You are doing perfectly."

As they moved through the room, a tall, handsome man with silver hair and a sharp, cruel smile approached them. It was Dominic Vance, the head of the rival Vance family, a man who had been at war with the Vales for decades.

"Ronan," Dominic said, his voice dripping with false warmth. "I didn't expect to see you tonight. And who is this lovely creature? Surely not one of your usual... associates."

"This is Seraphina Hale," Ronan said, his grip on her back tightening slightly. "My personal assistant."

Dominic’s eyes swept over Seraphina, lingering on the diamond necklace with a calculating look. "An assistant? How charming. You know, Ronan, you should be careful. Sometimes, the things we keep close to us are the most fragile. They are so easy to break."

Seraphina felt a cold dread settle in her stomach, but before she could panic, Ronan stepped forward, his body partially blocking her from Dominic’s view.

"Nothing under my roof breaks, Dominic," Ronan said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, gravelly whisper that made the surrounding guests step back. "And if anyone tries, I don't just break them in return. I obliterate them. Keep that in mind the next time you think about looking at what's mine."