The silence in Adrian Moretti’s private study was heavy, punctuated only by the distant, muted rumble of traffic crawling along the wet asphalt outside the grand estate.

The heavy oak door clicked shut, leaving Claire alone in the suffocating silence of the study.

Her hands trembled slightly as she picked up her feather duster, her mind racing. Vienna. He had mentioned Vienna. That meant he either had connections far deeper than ordinary underworld intelligence, or he had recognized her voice from recordings she thought had been scrubbed from the internet years ago.

She walked over to the desk, her eyes drifting to the leather-bound appointment book Adrian had left open. She didn't mean to look, but a handwritten note scrawled in the margin caught her eye: Check the freight audits. Protect the periphery.

Claire exhaled a shaky breath, setting the duster down. She couldn't afford to be discovered. Not here. Not now. She had spent six years running from her past, hiding behind cheap clothes, a quiet demeanor, and a fake background just to stay off the radar of the men who had destroyed her family.

Working for Adrian Moretti was supposed to be the ultimate camouflage. Who would ever look for a disgraced opera prodigy inside the fortress of Chicago’s most feared mafia boss?

It was a brilliant hiding spot, right up until the moment she opened her mouth and sang.

That night, sleep eluded her. Tossing and turning in her small, neat quarters on the lower level of the estate, Claire replayed the encounter over and over. The way he had looked at her—not with the predatory hunger she was used to avoiding from powerful men, but with a strange, piercing curiosity.

By 5:00 AM, she was already in the expansive stainless-steel kitchen, tying her hair back and prepping the morning coffee.

At 6:30 AM, the kitchen door swung open silently.

Adrian walked in. He had already shaved, dressed in a charcoal three-piece suit with a crisp white shirt, looking as though he had slept eight hours instead of spending the night handling syndicate contraband and corrupt politicians.

He stopped by the counter where Claire was pouring freshly brewed coffee into a thermal carafe.

"Morning," he said.

"Good morning, Mr. Moretti," Claire replied evenly, keeping her eyes fixed on the coffee pot. "Breakfast will be served in the formal dining room in twenty minutes. Chef Marcus is preparing—"

"I don't want breakfast in the dining room," Adrian interrupted, pulling out a high stool and sitting down at the kitchen island. "I want it here. Just black coffee and toast."

Claire paused, turning around slowly. "The household rules state—"

"The household rules were written by me, Claire," he said mildly, resting his elbows on the marble counter. "I think I can bend them for a cup of coffee in my own kitchen."

She compressed her lips, grabbed a small plate, and prepared a piece of toasted sourdough with artisanal butter. She set it down in front of him without a word, turning back to wipe down the espresso machine.

"You didn't sleep," Adrian noted, watching her reflection in the polished glass of the oven door.

"I slept fine."

"Your pulse is elevated," he observed smoothly. "I can hear it from here."

Claire whirled around, unable to maintain her composure any longer. "What do you want from me, Mr. Moretti? Seriously. If my singing bothered you, if you want me to pack my bags and leave, just say the word. I can be out of this house in twenty minutes."

Adrian picked up his toast, taking a slow bite before setting it down. He looked at her with a gaze so steady it felt physical.

"I didn't say I wanted you to leave."

"Then why keep circling me? Why bring up Vienna? Why stare at me like I'm a puzzle you're trying to solve?"

"Because people in my world don't hide unless they're running from something dangerous," Adrian said, his voice dropping an octave, losing all casualness. "And people with a voice like yours don't end up scrubbing floors unless someone broke their wings."

Claire felt a cold shiver run down her spine. The raw accuracy of his words cut straight through her defenses.