“YOU CAN STAY WITH ME,” THE POOR MAID SAID TO THE FALLEN MAFIA BOSS—HE NEVER SAW WHAT CAME NEXT

Immani walked three blocks through the howling wind, her face buried inside her faux-fur collar, her hands shoved deep into her pockets. Cade walked two steps behind her, his head low, wearing an oversized, faded winter coat she had pulled out from the back of her closet—an old coat belonging to her ex-boyfriend that was two sizes too short in the sleeves.

They slipped through the side door of Bubbles & Suds Laundromat.

The air inside was thick with the warm, artificial scent of lavender detergent and hot dryer exhaust. Three elderly women sat in plastic chairs reading magazines while rows of metal washing machines tumbled rhythmically.

In the back corner, beside a broken vending machine, hung an ancient metal payphone.

Cade stepped up to the phone, his body blocking the view from the front window. He picked up the plastic receiver, tapped the coin return twice with his thumb, and listened.

A dull dial tone clicked in his ear.

He dialed a eleven-digit number from memory.

Immani stood near the door, her eyes darting between the street outside and the laundry customers. Every time a car slowed down on the snowy street, her stomach tightened into a hard knot.

"It's me," Cade said into the receiver, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly tone that barely carried over the hum of the dryers.

A pause. Then a sharp, shocked gasp came through the speaker, so loud Immani could hear the tinny rattle from three feet away.

"Cade? Jesus Christ... they said you were at the bottom of the river."

"Julian's men are sloppy," Cade said coldly. "Who's left, Silas?"

"Me, Jimmy, and the crew at the South Side railyards. Everyone else jumped ship the second Julian showed up with the syndicate bosses from Detroit. Cade, he's got the ledger. He took your safe from the office last night. He's showing the capos that you were skimming from the union funds."

Cade’s hand tightened on the receiver until his knuckles turned white.

"He forged it," Cade rasped. "I never touched the union money. He's framing me so the Detroit bosses give him their blessing to take the entire city."

"It doesn't matter if it's a forgery, boss! They believe him! Unless you can produce the real ledger—the physical book with the original signature codes—Detroit is going to put a million-dollar bounty on your head by tonight."

"Where is the original ledger?" Cade asked.

"Where you left it. In the floor safe under the floorboards of the old textile warehouse on 26th Street. But Julian has four men posted outside that building right now. You can't get in there, Cade. You can barely walk!"

Cade was quiet for three long seconds. His eyes drifted across the laundromat, landing on Immani, who was watching him with wide, anxious eyes.

"I won't be going in," Cade said softly. "Send Jimmy with a delivery van to the corner of 28th and Iron Street in two hours. Tell him to bring two clean passports, ten thousand in cash, and a medical kit."

"Cade... who's going to get the ledger?"

Cade looked straight at Immani.

"Someone Julian's men will never notice," Cade murmured, and hung up the phone.

Two minutes later, they were standing in the narrow alley behind the laundromat, shielded from the wind by two massive metal dumpsters.

"No," Immani said immediately, stepping back from him. "No way. Absolutely not."

"Immani—"

"I am not breaking into a mob warehouse, Cade!" she yelled, her voice trembling with a mixture of terror and anger. "I am a maid! I scrub toilets! I don't break into safes!"

"It's not a break-in," Cade said, leaning against the cold brick wall, his chest rising heavily as the cold air bit into his lungs. "The warehouse is empty. Julian’s men are watching the front entrance and the main loading dock because they expect me to come through the front door with a gun."

"And how am I supposed to get in?"

"The ventilation shaft on the east roof," Cade said, his voice quiet, intense, compelling. "When I bought that warehouse three years ago, I had the service vents expanded so my maintenance staff could clean the industrial filters. A grown man can't fit through those ducts. But a woman your size? You can slide right down into the secondary office."

"And if they hear me?" she whispered, her voice cracking. "If they catch me inside?"

Cade stepped closer to her. Despite his pale skin and his ragged coat, the sheer force of his presence seemed to push back the freezing wind around them. He reached out, his warm, rough thumb gently tracing the line of her cheekbone.

"They won't catch you," he said softly, his eyes searching hers with an intensity that made her breath hitch. "Because you are invisible to them, Immani. You’ve spent four years learning how to move through buildings without making a sound. You know how service doors work. You know how security cameras have dead spots. You have a skill that every hitman in this city would kill for."

"That's not a skill," she breathed, her heart hammering against her ribs. "That's just being poor."

"It's survival," Cade corrected, his voice dropping into a rich, deep register that vibrated in her chest. "And right now, it's the only thing that can save both of us. If I get that ledger, I take back my organization before midnight. Julian goes down, the bounty is canceled, and you walk away with enough money to buy your own building instead of cleaning someone else's."

Immani looked at him—really looked at him.

She saw the ruthless crime lord, yes. But she also saw the man who hadn't made a sound while she dug a steel needle through his flesh. She saw a man who had been betrayed by his own blood, standing in a dirty alley, putting his entire life into the hands of a woman who washed his floors.

"Where is the safe?" she asked quietly.

A slow, genuine smile spread across Cade’s face.

"Under the second oak floorboard behind the metal desk," he said. "The combination is 14-32-09. And Immani?"

"What?"

"If anything goes wrong... if you hear a single footstep... you leave the book and you run. Do you understand me? My life isn't worth yours."