By Day, His Maid. By Night, His Mistress.

Maid Survival Rule Number One: Do not talk back to the man you owe.

Maid Survival Rule Number Two: Do not attempt to escape.

Maid Survival Rule Number Three: Under absolutely no circumstances can the Don discover that you are the online girlfriend who orders him to kneel every single night.

I was unlucky.

I almost broke Rule Number Three on my very first day.

After my father, Daniel Bennett, vanished with fifty million dollars belonging to the Vitale Family, we went bankrupt overnight.

To protect my mother, I signed a work-for-debt agreement.

Until the debt was paid, I had to live at the Vitale estate, remain on call at all times, and wasn't allowed to leave the East Coast without permission.

Right then, I stood before Cassian Vitale, the most feared Don on the East Coast.

Cassian sat behind a wide black desk, flipping through documents with casual indifference.

"Lia Bennett, correct?"

Just those three words, and my legs turned to jelly.

Not because I was scared.

It was that voice...

That voice belonged to the man who clung to me every night and called me Mistress, my online puppy who had cried and begged me not to leave after I dumped him yesterday!

I froze.

No way.

Absolutely no way.

My puppy was Cassian Vitale?!

"Do I need to come get you?"

"N-no!"

Trembling all over, I hurried to the desk.

Cassian slid a sheet of paper out from the stack and pushed it toward me.

"Explain this."

I looked down.

It was the supply order I'd drafted for the estate's logistics team. There, among the items, was something no sane person would ever requisition: a black leather collar.

My vision went dark.

This was the first document the estate manager had asked me to organize.

At the time, I had been daydreaming about my puppy... and accidentally scribbled those words down without thinking.

I tried to salvage what was left of my dignity.

"Don, this is for estate security purposes. A proper collar ensures the guard dogs remain obedient and allows their handler to discipline them efficiently..."

Cassian finally looked up. "Oh?"

He was devastatingly handsome.

Deep-set brow bones, a sharp straight nose, the sleeves of his black shirt rolled to the elbows, revealing the hard lines of his forearms.

Every inch of him hit my exact type.

Too bad he looked at me as if he were sizing me up for a sack to dump at sea.

"Discipline?"

He picked up the supply order, a half-smile playing on his lips.

"So this batch of collars is strictly for the estate's guard dogs?"

Then his gaze dropped to my throat.

"Funny. I get the feeling you keep a dog of your own."

My face caught fire.

Honestly, I had been picturing my puppy wearing it.

But I couldn't admit that.

If the most notorious killer on the East Coast found out that the person making him beg on his knees every night was me...

I didn't want to imagine how ugly my death would be.

"N-no... absolutely not! I was only thinking of the Vitale Family's security!"

Cassian's brow furrowed suddenly, his gaze landing on the side of my neck.

"What is that smell on you?"

I sniffed my shoulder.

Oh, that was my custom-blended man-repellent perfume. Men with overactive hormones found the scent extremely unpleasant.

Sure, I was a wild one online.

But Dad always said real men were dangerous.

Come on, Cassian, send me to the laundry room already!

I feigned innocence. "Maybe my body wash just... soaked in too deep?"

Cassian stared at me for two seconds. His Adam's apple bobbed.

"Wear less of that perfume from now on."

"For you, it's... dangerous."

I shrank into my shoulders.

Ha. Of course. Every man who smelled it had an allergic reaction. How could that possibly not be dangerous?

Cassian picked up a tissue and held it over his nose and mouth, his brow furrowed and his voice stern.

"One more thing. While you're here, I suggest you put away those cheap little fantasies."

"Every day I turn down a hundred women who dream of becoming the Donna of the Vitale Family."

"Not one of them ended well."

"Remember that."

His voice was impossibly deep, each word weighted with authority.

My knees still went weak despite myself. "Y-yes..."

He waved his hand.

"You may go."

"Yes, Don."