The Maid’s Toddler Sold Flowers for Her Sick Mom — Mafia Boss Froze When He Heard Her Name

While I gained my strength back, the war outside the estate walls escalated.

Julian Russo knew Damian had Clara in hiding. With his back against the wall, Julian made a desperate move: he leaked fabricated documents to the FBI, claiming Damian was laundering money through hospital construction projects using Clara Vance as a shell company director.

One morning, Damian walked into the dining room where I was having breakfast. His expression was grimmer than usual.

"The federal prosecutors have issued a subpoena," Damian said quietly. "Julian wants to force you into a courtroom. He knows that if you testify without knowing the full financial structure, his lawyers can twist your testimony to make it look like you and I were co-conspirators."

"Then what do we do?" I asked, my pulse quickening.

"We go on the offensive," Damian replied. "Victor kept a physical ledger. A hard copy of every illegal transaction he made, including the stolen three million and the real bank account signatures. He hid it in the safe inside the old Chestnut Hill manor."

"The place where I used to work?" I asked.

"Yes. But Julian has armed men guarding the property twenty-four hours a day. We need to get inside, retrieve the ledger, and clear both our names before the federal indictment goes through on Friday."

"I know that house," I said suddenly, standing up. "I worked there for two years. I know every service tunnel, every secret hallway Victor built into the pantry. You can't navigate it without me, Damian."