His fiancée thought humiliating the maid would make her look powerful, but she never expected him to take off his coat.

That evening, the city lights of Chicago twinkled far below the panoramic windows of the Marchetti penthouse suite.

Adeline stood by the glass, looking out over the glittering skyline. The corporate takeover of Ashford Logistics had made the morning headlines across every major financial newspaper in the country, sparking intense speculation about Enzo Marchetti’s mysterious new chief consultant. Yet none of the journalists had managed to uncover her true identity or her humble origins as a maid in his estate.

Footsteps approached softly across the hardwood floor.

Enzo walked up behind her, holding two glasses of crystal-clear sparkling water with a twist of lime. He handed one to her, his fingers brushing gently against hers.

“You destroyed an empire today,” Enzo said quietly, leaning against the window frame beside her. “How does it feel?”

“It feels like justice,” Adeline murmured, taking a slow sip. She turned her head to look up at him. “Though I never imagined my background would be the weapon that brought Arthur Ashford down.”

“Your background wasn't the weapon, Adeline,” Enzo corrected, his dark eyes softening as he looked down at her. “Your resilience was. Most people who experience what you experienced under my roof would have packed their bags and run away on the first night. You stayed. You endured. And you turned the tables.”

“Because of you,” she whispered. “If you hadn't stopped Camilla... if you hadn't given me a chance to show you who I really was...”

“I would have missed the most remarkable woman in Chicago,” Enzo finished, his voice dropping into a low, intimate register.

He reached out, taking the glass from her hand and setting it on a nearby table. Then, slowly, deliberately, he reached for her left wrist—covering the exact spot where Camilla’s riding crop had left its mark three weeks ago. The wound had healed completely, leaving only a faint, pale line.

“The staff quarters are empty,” Enzo murmured, his thumb stroking her pulse point. “And you haven't slept in your own room since the night of the gala. You don't have to stay in the guest suite anymore, Adeline.”

Adeline’s heart skipped a beat. She looked into his dark, steady eyes, seeing no command or expectation there—only an open invitation.