No Secretary Survived a Week With the Sicilian Mafia Boss Until the Clumsy Girl He Hired by Mistake Found the Secret That Could Destroy Him

Six months later, the Rossy estate was in chaos, but for once, it was the joyful kind.

The wedding was three days away. Rosa, the fierce housekeeper, was commanding a small army of caterers, florists, and decorators. She wielded a wooden spoon like a general’s baton.

“No, no, no!” Rosa shouted at a terrified florist. “The lilies go on the left! If you put them on the right, it ruins the symmetry! Do you want the bride to trip over them?”

Chloe, hiding behind a massive pillar in the foyer, whispered to Lorenzo. “She has a point. I probably would trip over them.”

Lorenzo, standing beside her in a casual sweater, chuckled. “Rosa is taking this very seriously. She considers you the daughter she never had.”

“I’m just glad she’s not cooking the entire reception dinner herself. She threatened to.”

Matteo walked up, holding a clipboard. He looked deeply uncomfortable.

“Why do I have this?” Matteo asked, waving the clipboard. “I am the Head of Security. I should be checking perimeters, not verifying the seating chart for Aunt Maria and Cousin Paul.”

“Because,” Lorenzo said smoothly, “Aunt Maria and Cousin Paul have hated each other since 1998. If they sit together, a fight breaks out. That makes it a security issue.”

Matteo sighed heavily. “I miss the days when my biggest problem was rival families, not seating arrangements.”

“Embrace the peace, Matteo,” Chloe smiled, patting his arm. “Besides, you look very authoritative with a clipboard.”

“I will throw it into the lake,” he grumbled, walking away to terrorize a caterer.

Lorenzo turned to Chloe, pulling her close. “Are you ready for this? Three hundred guests. The press. The entire legitimate business world of Chicago.”