The sun struggled to pierce through the thick, bruised clouds hanging over Baltimore as the reality of Damian’s command settled over me like a lead weight.

We weren't maids anymore. We were hostages to a secret alliance.

Damian arranged for a secure suite to be set up in the private family wing adjacent to his own rooms—far away from the prying eyes of the other servants and the armed enforcers who patrolled the grounds. It was a luxurious cage, complete with velvet furnishings, a stack of picture books for Lila, and a private security detail stationed quietly outside the double doors under strict orders to answer only to Damian.

“Eat up, sweet girl,” I whispered, cutting a piece of toast for Lila while she played with her cloth rabbit on the plush carpet.

She looked up, signing Where is the tall man? referring to Damian.

“He’s resting, honey,” I signed back, though my own stomach was tied in knots.

Just an hour earlier, Damian had laid out his grim hypothesis. The poison wasn't administered in a single, fatal dose—that would have raised immediate suspicion and brought federal investigators swarming onto his property. Instead, it was a micro-dose compound administered daily through his specialized herbal tonics and evening medicine drops.

And only three people had authorized access to those specific medical preparations: Dr. Marcus Vance, the family’s personal physician of fifteen years; Vincent Russo, Damian’s cold-blooded second-in-command; and Clara, the head housekeeper who had served the Volkov family since Damian was a boy.

Any one of them could be the executioner.

A sharp knock interrupted my thoughts. The heavy oak door swung open, and Vincent Russo stepped into the suite.

Vincent was a tall, immaculate man in a charcoal tailored suit, his silver-streaked hair combed back with military precision. His eyes were cold, sharp, and carried the unmistakable predatory gleam of a man who loved wielding power in the shadows. He glanced down at Lila, then up at me, a polite, razor-thin smile touching his lips.

“Elena, correct?” Vincent’s voice was smooth, like polished glass over gravel. “The new personal attendant assigned to the boss.”

“Yes, Mr. Russo,” I said, stepping instinctively in front of Lila, placing myself between her and the dangerous enforcer.

Vincent’s eyes narrowed slightly at my protective posture. He took a slow step forward, holding a silver tray bearing Damian’s afternoon medication vial.

“Strange how things work out,” Vincent mused, circling the room like a cat inspecting a cornered mouse. “One day you’re scrubbing floors in the east wing, and the next you’re elevated to the family quarters. The boss hasn't allowed anyone near his suite in months. What makes you so special, girl?”

“I just do my job,” I kept my voice steady, though my palms were slick with sweat.

“Do you?” Vincent stopped right in front of me, his gaze dropping to the silver tray in his hands. “Because Dr. Marcus prepared this exact vial fifteen minutes ago. Damian insists on taking his medications through his new attendant now. That means you.”

He extended the tray toward me.

The small glass bottle rested innocently in the center, filled with a clear, amber liquid.

My pulse roared in my ears. Was this the poison? Was Vincent testing me, or was he handing me the very weapon that was killing the man upstairs?

Before I could reach out, Lila scrambled up from the carpet. Ignoring my warning gasp, she trotted right over, stood beside Vincent’s polished leather shoes, and reached up, tapping the silver tray with her small knuckles.

Vincent looked down in utter annoyance, his lip curling. “Get this child away from me.”

Lila didn't move. Instead, she looked up at Vincent with wide, unnervingly perceptive eyes, made a sharp dismissing gesture with her tiny hand, and then pointed directly at the amber vial, signing a frantic, silent warning: Bad. Danger.

Vincent’s face went rigid. The polite mask slipped away for a fraction of a second, revealing a flash of genuine, murderous panic in his eyes.

And in that split second, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that we were standing in the presence of the wolf.