All Chapters of Maid To The Three Mafia Kings: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

Carlton glanced around one last time, making sure they were alone. “Evan’s arranged for your escape,” he whispered. “You’re both leaving tomorrow night when the house is asleep.”The words hit them like a shockwave. Clara’s hand flew to her mouth as she let out a soft gasp, her eyes wide with disbelief. Millie stood frozen, tears welling up in her eyes as the reality of it all sank in.They were getting out. They were finally going to be free.Clara couldn’t contain herself, letting out a small shriek of joy. “This isn’t one of Evan’s pranks, right?” she asked, looking at Millie with wide, suspicious eyes. “You’re sure this isn’t some twisted dare?”Millie shook her head, her lips curving into a tearful grin. “No, Clara. This is real. We’re really leaving this place.” She turned to Carlton. “But where do we go? And we don’t have any money.”“Don’t worry about that. Evan’s taken care of everything,” Carlton said firmly, his gaze flicking between Millie and Clara. “Leave the rest of you

Letting out a tired breath, Millie pulled herself together and headed back toward the kitchen. She barely made it past the doorway when Sheila stepped in front of her.“Mr. Jameson’s asking for a refill on his rum,” Sheila said, like it was just another normal request, like the air hadn’t shifted.But it had. Everything felt off now. Like the floor had tilted just enough to make her uneasy.Without a word, Millie grabbed a fresh bottle from the cabinet and walked toward the office. Her feet felt heavy, her chest even heavier. When she stepped inside, Mr. Jameson was hunched over his desk, focused on whatever papers were in front of him—or maybe just pretending to be. He didn’t look up and didn’t acknowledge her presence as she set the bottle down.“Here’s your rum, Mr. Jameson,” she said quietly, her voice barely louder than a whisper in the still room.He gave only a distracted nod, no glance, no comment. That alone made her pause for a split second. He always said something, even if

“I trust you won’t buy the entire Walmart,” Mr. Jameson said with a rare hint of humor, his lips twitching upward in a smile that almost seemed foreign to him. Sheila knew this wasn’t something he did often—joking or handing out cash so freely. In fact, she could count on one hand the times he had ever made a joke, and even those were usually laced with sarcasm.Before she could respond, Mr. Jameson gave her a nod and walked off, leaving her standing there, speechless, with the money in her hand. The bills felt strange in her palm, the situation surreal.Still trying to process what had just happened, she took a deep breath and headed back to her room. She changed out of her uniform, slipping into a comfortable pair of corduroy pants and a floral blouse, her mind still spinning from Mr. Jameson’s unexpected kindness. After pulling her hair back into a neat bun, she tucked the cash into her purse and made her way to the kitchen.As she entered, she found Millie seated at the table, sha

They took her.Millie couldn’t breathe. The last three words—they took her—didn’t need further explanation. She knew exactly what Sandra meant. Clara had been taken, and it was like the ground had been ripped out from under her.Andrea stood nearby, pale and silent, clearly shaken to her core, her hands trembling as she wiped at her tear-streaked face.“Is Evan back?” Millie asked, her voice barely steady as panic clawed at her.Sandra shook her head. “No. Should he be back today?”A cold dread settled over Millie, sending her into motion. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest as she ran toward Ethan’s office, every step heavy with fear and desperation. She burst through the door, her eyes blazing with fury. She could feel the panic bubbling over, but she forced herself to focus on one thing—getting Clara back.Millie lashed out, her voice shaking with anger as she confronted Ethan. “Bring Clara back!” she demanded, her fists clenched at her sides. Her voice was louder than she had in

Evan’s private jet glided down onto the tarmac in Sacramento, but his gut had already begun to twist with apprehension. He’d been calling Carlton for half an hour, and every unanswered ring only deepened the sinking feeling. Something was off, and he knew it. He cursed quietly about how the day had turned into something much worse than he had expected.As the jet door opened, the sun’s glare revealed a line of three black SUVs parked in formation. Armed men in tactical gear surrounded the vehicles, their sharp eyes locking onto him the moment his foot hit the steps. They weren’t just standing around—they were waiting for him, watching him like hawks.Stepping down from the last stair, Evan’s gaze was drawn to a figure approaching him—a tall, muscular woman dressed head to toe in sleek black attire. Her short, jet-black hair was slicked back, emphasizing the bold tattoos that crawled up her neck and onto the edges of her sharp, angular face.“Evan, good to see you,” the woman greeted.