"The Maid Made His Silent Sister Laugh—Then the Mafia Boss Discovered the Secret She Had Buried for Three Years**

"Down!" Santiago roared.

He flipped the massive eight-hundred-pound mahogany dining table onto its side with superhuman fury, catching a hail of nine-millimeter rounds into the heavy wood.

Dishes shattered into shards of porcelain; crystal glasses exploded into sparkling dust. Santiago drew his dual weapons from beneath his coat, firing blind over the rim of the wood. The loud *crack-crack-crack* of his .45 echoed through the ballroom, and two of Dario's rogue captains collapsed with fatal chest wounds.

"Eleanor! Get Sophia to the safe room!" Santiago bellowed, empty shell casings clattering onto the hardwood floor around him.

Eleanor didn't hesitate. Grabbing Sophia by the wrist, she hauled the girl toward the hidden service staircase behind the pantry.

Bullets ripped through the plaster walls, chewing up priceless oil paintings. A third gunman lunged through the doorway, his gun leveled at Sophia’s back. Eleanor didn't think; she grabbed a heavy cast-iron skillet from the kitchen rack and slammed it into the man's throat with every ounce of strength she possessed. The man gagged, stumbling backward, and Eleanor snatched his fallen weapon from the floor.

She had spent three years running from ghosts. She was done running.

"Upstairs, Sophia! Go!"

They reached the second-floor gallery just as the mansion's power cut out. Emergency red lights hummed to life, casting bloody shadows across the long corridor.

Below them, the house was a warzone. Santiago's loyal perimeter guards were engaging Dario’s assault team in the foyer. The roar of automatic shotguns and breaking glass shook the foundations.

Eleanor shoved Sophia into the reinforced panic room behind the library's false bookshelf. "Stay here! Do not open this door for anyone except Santiago or me! Do you understand?"

Sophia signed frantically: *Stay with me! Don't leave!*

"I have to draw them away from you," Eleanor whispered, cupping the girl's tear-stained face. "I promised your brother I would bring you back. I’m keeping that promise."

Eleanor slammed the heavy steel door shut and keyed the electronic lock.

Turning back to the hallway, she was met by the barrel of Dario’s revolver pressing hard against her temple.

"Where is she, doctor?" Dario sneered, his silver dragon ring catching the crimson emergency light. Blood leaked from a graze on his shoulder, his silver hair disheveled. "Give me the code, or I’ll scatter your brains across this hallway and find her myself."

Eleanor looked into the face of the monster who had burned her brother alive. She felt no fear—only a profound, absolute stillness.

"You burned my brother," she whispered, her voice colder than the winter sleet outside. "You tortured that child for seven years."

"Business, sweetheart," Dario smiled coldly, his finger tightening on the trigger. "Nothing personal."

"This is personal," a voice growled from behind him.