The Maid Was Crying in the Mafia Boss’s Kitchen… Then He Locked the Door and Asked Who Hurt Her

Vincent stepped past the threshold, holding his tactical flashlight in one hand and his silenced pistol in the other. A cruel, triumphant smile stretched across his face as the beam of light swept across the small safe room.

"Well, well," Vincent sneered, his voice echoing in the enclosed space. "The little kitchen maid. Moretti offered me half a million dollars to bring you to him alive after we took out Carmine."

The flashlight beam landed directly on Ivy.

She didn't scream. She didn't beg.

She stood straight, her feet planted firmly on the cold floor, holding the compact revolver in a two-handed grip, aiming straight at his chest.

Vincent laughed, a patronizing, dismissive sound. "Put the gun down, sweetheart. You don't even know how to take the safety off—"

BANG!

The deafening roar of the revolver exploded inside the tiny steel room.

The bullet struck Vincent squarely in his left shoulder. The force of the impact knocked him backward against the doorframe, his pistol slipping from his fingers and clattering across the floor.

Vincent gasped in shock and pain, clutching his bleeding shoulder, his eyes wide with utter disbelief as he stared at the quiet girl who had just shot him.

"I know how to pull the trigger," Ivy said, her voice dropping into a ice-cold register that mirrored Carmine's.

Vincent growled, lunging forward with his good hand to grab her.

Before he could reach her, a shadow materialized behind him in the doorway.

A massive, gloved hand reached out, grabbed Vincent by his collar, and yanked him backward out of the safe room with terrifying force.

Vincent hit the hardwood floor of the sitting room with a heavy thud.

Carmine stood over him, his face covered in soot and blood, his eyes burning with pure, unbridled fury.

Without saying a word, Carmine brought the heavy butt of his pistol down on Vincent’s jaw, knocking the traitor unconscious instantly.

Carmine tossed his weapon aside and rushed into the safe room, grabbing Ivy by her shoulders and pulling her into a tight, desperate embrace.

"Are you hurt?! Did he touch you?!" Carmine asked frantically, his hands checking her face, her arms, her neck.

"I'm fine... I'm fine," Ivy sobbed, dropping the revolver and wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, burying her face in his chest. "I shot him, Carmine... I shot him."

"You did good, Ivy. You saved yourself," Carmine whispered, burying his face in her soft hair, holding her so tightly she could feel the frantic pounding of his heart against her cheek. "My brave girl."

Dominic stepped into the doorway, holding a flashlight and looking down at the unconscious Vincent on the floor.

"The house is secure, Boss," Dominic reported, his voice raspy from smoke. "Moretti’s hit squad has been completely eliminated. We caught two survivors. They confirmed Vincent turned off the perimeter grid for a quarter of a million up front."

Carmine slowly released Ivy, turning to look at Dominic with eyes that promised cold, swift justice.

"Drag Vincent down to the basement," Carmine commanded coldly. "Put him in the cell. Wake him up. He is going to call Sal Moretti and tell him the job is done—and that Moretti needs to come to Dock 14 personally to collect the maid."

Dominic grinned darkly. "Understood, Boss."