The Mafia Boss Gave the Maid’s Toddler Three Wishes, and Her First Wish Made Him Turn Away So She Wouldn’t See Him Cry

Three days later.

The morning sun rose over the Chicago skyline, casting a brilliant gold light across the sprawling lawns of the DeLuca estate.

The dark rain was gone. The estate was peaceful, restored, and secured by men whose loyalty was beyond question.

In the grand, state-of-the-art kitchen of the main residence, the smell of fresh coffee, sizzling bacon, and sweet vanilla batter filled the air.

Maya Collins stood by the marble island, wearing a simple, elegant blue dress. Her eyes were bright, her face rested, and the fear that had haunted her for three years had completely vanished from her smile.

Sitting on a high stool at the island was Ellie, wearing her pink leather shoes, kicking her legs back and forth while swinging her patched rabbit.

Standing over the industrial stove was Roman DeLuca.

He wore a soft black t-shirt over a white medical sling that securely bound his wounded left shoulder. In his right hand, he held a spatula, expertly flipping a golden-brown pancake high into the air, landing it perfectly back in the buttered skillet.

Ellie clapped her hands, giggling with pure delight. “Do it again! Do it again!”

“I’m a mob boss, Ellie, not a circus performer,” Roman said dryly, though a rare, beautiful smile warmed his handsome features.

He slid three golden pancakes onto a white plate, covered them with fresh strawberries, whipped cream, and syrup, and placed the plate right in front of Ellie.

“Wish number three,” Roman said, looking down at her.

Ellie looked up, her wide gray eyes sparkling. She reached into her little dress pocket and pulled out the third cream-colored card—the one Roman had returned to her after the warehouse battle.

“I have a wish,” Ellie said, placing the card on the counter.

Maya smiled, leaning over to stroke her daughter’s hair. “Ellie, you’ve already used your wishes. Mr. Roman gave us everything.”

And he had.

Maya was no longer a maid. Roman had elevated her to the Executive Director of the DeLuca Charitable Foundation, giving her an official salary, a beautiful private suite in the main residence, and complete financial independence.

“No, I have one more,” Ellie insisted, looking straight into Roman’s dark eyes.

Roman chuckled softly, leaning his hip against the counter. “Alright, little one. Let’s hear it. What’s the third wish?”

Ellie held up the card.

“I wish you don't go away,” Ellie said softly, her little voice completely sincere. “I wish you stay here and be our family.”

The kitchen went quiet.

Maya looked up, her breath catching in her throat, her cheeks flushing a delicate pink as her eyes met Roman’s.

Roman looked at the innocent little girl who had walked into his cold, lonely, violent world and completely shattered it with a single innocent request. He looked at Maya, seeing the love, respect, and deep devotion shining in her eyes.

The cold, ruthless Don of Chicago felt his heart swell with a warmth he hadn't known in twenty-seven years.

Roman reached down, picking up the third cream card, and slipped it permanently into his pocket.