The Shy Secretary Fell Asleep on the Mafia Boss’s Shoulder—And He Refused to Wake Her

Three months later, the transition of power across the New York financial sector was complete.

Julian Thorne’s former corporate empire had been swallowed whole by Hamilton Global Enterprises, turning Deari’s syndicate into the undisputed titan of transatlantic logistics, shipping, and banking.

The penthouse office on Madison Avenue had undergone a few subtle, elegant changes. On the sleek walnut desk, alongside the secure satellite terminals and financial ledgers, sat a crystal vase filled with fresh white peonies. And adjacent to Deari’s massive glass desk was a newly installed, custom-built executive workstation occupied by a woman who no longer looked like she was running on borrowed time and bitter coffee.

Caitlyn Elmore sat at her desk, wearing a sharp, tailored emerald-green pantsuit, reviewing a multi-billion-dollar acquisition contract for a shipping port in Marseille.

The heavy mahogany doors swung open.

Deari walked in, carrying two cups of espresso from the corner café downstairs—a concession to humanity he only made for her.

He walked straight past his own desk, stopped behind Caitlyn’s chair, and placed one espresso cup beside her keyboard. Then, with casual, absolute familiarity, he wrapped both arms around her shoulders, resting his chin lightly against her hair, breathing in the scent of vanilla and cedarwood.

“You’re working too late, Miss Elmore,” Deari murmured against her ear, his deep voice rich with affectionate amusement.

“I have to finish the Marseille asset allocation before the European markets open, Mr. Hamilton,” Caitlyn retorted smoothly, leaning back against his solid chest with a soft, contented smile. “Unlike some people who delegate every minor detail to Luigi, I actually enjoy balancing my own books.”

Deari let out a low chuckle, his arms tightening slightly around her waist. “Luigi is currently busy relocating three crates of confiscated Swiss bearer bonds to our primary vault. He lacks your delicate touch.”

Just then, the secure intercom on Caitlyn’s desk chimed.

She pressed the talk button. “Elmore speaking.”

“Miss Elmore,” Elena’s voice came through, sounding remarkably flustered. “There’s a delegation of European banking executives waiting in the boardroom for the 3:00 PM merger sign-off. But… Mr. Hamilton isn't answering his private line. Should I send them in?”

Caitlyn looked up at Deari, who was currently pressing a gentle, lingering kiss against the side of her neck, looking entirely uninterested in international banking delegations.

Caitlyn smiled, turned slightly in her chair, and wrapped her arms around Deari’s neck, pulling him down into a deep, unhurried kiss that completely obliterated any thought of Swiss bearer bonds or European mergers.

When they finally broke apart, Caitlyn pressed the intercom button once more.

“Tell the delegation to wait twenty minutes, Elena,” Caitlyn said, her voice cool, confident, and dripping with executive authority. “Mr. Hamilton and I are currently indisposed.”

Deari laughed softly against her lips, his dark eyes shining with absolute devotion.