The Mafia Boss Found His Fired Maid Freezing in the Snow—By Midnight, His Estate Manager Disappeared

The heat inside the car was a physical shock.

It hit my frozen skin like needles, making my blood race and my bones ache with a sudden, violent throbbing as the warmth woke my nerves.

Nicholas placed me in the passenger seat, wrapping two cashmere blankets around my legs before slamming the door.

The drive back to the mansion took three minutes.

When we pulled up under the portico, Luca was waiting with the double doors wide open.

Richard Caldwell stood in the background, wringing his hands, his face pale as chalk.

Nicholas didn't look at him.

He scooped me out of the car again, carrying me past the shattered porcelain on the marble floor, past the glittering Christmas tree, and straight up the grand staircase toward the private residential wing.

"Call Dr. Vance," Nicholas ordered Luca over his shoulder. "Tell him to bring the thermal kit and get here in ten minutes."

"Right away, Boss," Luca said.

The master suite was warm, smelling of dark leather, old books, and cedar.

Nicholas set me down gently on the edge of the king-sized bed.

He knelt, unlaced my ruined, snow-soaked work shoes, and peeled away my frozen socks, tossing them aside.

With his own hands, he began rubbing my cold feet, trying to jump-start the circulation.

"You shouldn't be doing that," I stammered, pulling back slightly. "I'm... I'm just a maid."

Nicholas stopped.

He looked up, his dark eyes boring into mine with a fierce, possessive intensity.

"You were hired to work in my house, Emily," he said, his voice dropping into a low, rumbling growl. "Not to freeze to death on my driveway because a petty tyrant wanted to flex his authority."

The bedroom door opened quietly.

Dr. Vance hurried in with his medical bag, his breath pluming in the warm room.

"What happened?" the doctor asked, snapping his case open.