All Chapters of Maid To The Three Mafia Kings: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

The following day, the estate buzzed with heightened security. More guards were stationed around the property. Patrols were more frequent, and the strictness of entry and exit protocols was more intense than ever.Most of the gunfire had been confined to the outside of the house, but the impact was still evident. Two guest rooms, where bullets had penetrated, were now sealed off, strictly off-limits. The male staff members had been working through the night, scrubbing away the remnants of the chaos in common areas like the lobby and living room.In the staff room, Sheila stood at the front, her face calm but serious, as she relayed the information Mr. Jameson had deemed appropriate to share. The room was silent, all eyes fixed on her, the weight of the previous day’s events hanging heavy.“I know everyone is still a little shaken up after what happened yesterday,” Sheila began, her voice steady. “But we must all try not to let that incident affect our ability to do our jobs today and

“Ethan will be arriving today,” Sheila announced that morning in the staff lounge, her voice breaking through the usual hum of conversation. She stood at the front of the room, clipboard in hand, ready to assign their daily tasks.Millie felt a knot tighten in her stomach upon hearing of Ethan’s arrival that day. Her mind flashed back to her last encounter with him—a moment far more intimate than she’d ever expected. She hadn’t seen or spoken to him since, and now the thought of his return filled her with a sense of dread. She had never signed the NDA he’d asked for, and she was certain that would be the first thing he would want to discuss.“Does he know about what happened here?” Clara asked.“I’m sure he does,” Sheila replied, her tone matter-of-fact. “And considering what just happened, everyone is expected to report anything unusual to me or Mr. Jameson.”“Unusual? Like what?” Clara pressed, though Millie remained silent beside her, lost in her own thoughts.Andrea, who had been

Millie wiped the sweat from her brow, her mind already drifting back to the responsibilities she’d temporarily escaped. “Evan… I really can’t stay. I still have so much to do.”With a playful sigh, Evan relented. “Alright, come on then.” He opened the door, leading her out of his sanctuary and back into the hallway. As they made their way toward the living room, they ran into Sheila, who looked both startled and curious.“Sheila!” Evan called out, a mischievous lilt still in his voice.“Evan…I mean, Mr. Moretti?” Sheila’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Did you hear that scream too?”Instead of answering directly, Evan gave her a cheeky grin. “If anyone comes looking for Millie, tell them she’ll be in my room.”Sheila blinked, taken aback. Her brows knitted in confusion as she looked from Evan to Millie, who was clearly flustered. Millie’s hair was a mess, with strands sticking out in every direction after their mad dash down the hall, and her cheeks were flushed from both exertion and excit

“Who the hell did it?” Marionne demanded, her voice sharp and unforgiving as she paced in front of Millie, Clara, Andrea, and Sandra. The four women stood stiffly, lined up like soldiers awaiting punishment, their eyes darting nervously between Marionne and each other. Behind her, Sheila stood with a worried expression, her hands clasped tightly in front of her as if bracing for what was about to happen.Marionne’s fury was palpable, her chest rising and falling with every ragged breath as she fixed them with a deadly glare. “Who, amongst the four of you, trashed my room?” she hissed, her voice full of venom.Millie’s heart pounded violently in her chest, each beat echoing in her ears. She never thought things would spiral out of control when she accepted Evan’s dare to mess with Marionne’s room. Seeing her like this—livid, on the edge of exploding—made her stomach churn with regret.Stupid, Millie. She silently cursed herself, trying to control her shaking hands.“So, no one? Not one

Millie clung to Evan’s arm as they made their way up the stairs. Her cries had quieted to soft, uneven breaths, the rawness in her chest still present but no longer pouring out in sobs. Each step felt heavier than the last, her body moving more from instinct than intention.At the top of the landing, Evan gently guided her down the hallway, his arm steady around her shoulders. She didn’t resist. She didn’t speak. She just let him lead her.Inside his room, the lights were dim, the air still. Evan walked her to the edge of the bed, and she sat down without a word, her shoulders slumping as she stared at the floor. Her hands were loosely folded in her lap, trembling slightly, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. She looked like she was holding herself together by a thread.Evan crossed to the nightstand, picked up a half-full bottle of wine, and quietly poured some into a glass. The sound of the liquid hitting the glass felt too calm for a moment, so tense, almost like it d