The drunken son of a judge thought he could humiliate anyone inside that luxury restaurant, even a trembling six-year-old boy begging for his toy back. He raised his hand, and I—a broke waitress one mistake away from being fired—took the slap meant for that child.

The private office of the Onyx Room was located on the penthouse floor of the building, accessible only by a private keycard elevator.

The room was vast, lined with dark mahogany bookshelves, expensive leather couches, and a floor-to-ceiling glass window that overlooked the glowing, rain-slicked streets of downtown Chicago. It smelled of rich tobacco, cedarwood, and old money.

Damian Valdez stood by the window, his jacket off, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He was pouring amber liquid into a crystal glass.

He didn't look up when I entered, but he knew I was there.

"Sit, Tessa," he said, gesturing toward the soft leather armchair in front of his desk.

I didn't sit. I stood near the door, my hands clasped in front of my apron. "I'm fine standing, Mr. Valdez. I just... I want to know if Leo is okay."

Damian paused, his glass halting mid-air. He slowly turned his head to look at me. The pale gray of his eyes seemed to pierce right through my defensive posture.

"He is asleep in the car," Damian said, walking over to the desk. He set the glass down. "He has his toy back. And he asked about you three times before he closed his eyes."

A small, genuine sigh of relief escaped my lips. "Good. That's good."

Damian walked around the desk, stopping just two feet away from me. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, silver tube of antiseptic cream and a fresh piece of sterile cotton.

"Hold still," he murmured.

Before I could protest, his fingers—large, warm, and surprisingly gentle—brushed my chin, tilting my face toward the light of the desk lamp. He carefully dabbed a small amount of the cream onto my split lip.

The contact made me flinch slightly, but his grip remained steady, anchoring me.

"You are twenty-three years old," Damian said, his voice low and rhythmic as he worked. "You are half a semester away from completing your nursing degree at UIC. Your mother, Elena Navarro, is currently in cardiac rehab at Saint Jude’s. Her weekly medical copays are six hundred dollars, and your landlord has threatened to evict you both by Friday if you do not pay eighteen hundred dollars in back rent."

My breath hitched. I pulled back, my eyes wide with fear. "How... how do you know all of that?"

"I know everything about the people who work in my buildings, Tessa," Damian said, setting the cotton down. He sat on the edge of his desk, folding his arms. "And the Onyx Room is one of my properties."

My stomach sank. "If you're going to fire me because of the scene tonight—"

"Fire you?" Damian let out a soft, dry laugh that didn't reach his eyes. "You protected my son. You took a blow meant for the only thing in this world I care about. In my circle, Tessa, that does not get you fired. It makes you family."

He reached into his drawer and pulled out a sleek, matte-black envelope, sliding it across the desk toward me.

"There is ten thousand dollars in there," Damian said. "It will cover your rent, your mother's medical bills for the next three months, and your remaining tuition. You will not return to the dining room floor."

I stared at the envelope. It was a lifeline. It was the answer to every desperate prayer I had whispered over my mother’s hospital bed for the past six months.

But I knew how this worked. In Chicago, nothing from a man like Damian Valdez was truly free.

"And what do I have to do for this, Mr. Valdez?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly. "I am a nursing student. I don't... I don't do illegal things."

Damian looked at me, a rare, faint smile touching the corner of his lips.

"You are going to do exactly what you've been training to do," he said. "My son has a congenital heart defect. He requires specialized pediatric care and constant monitoring. I have hired the best doctors, but I need someone I can trust to be his personal, live-in nurse. Someone who has already proven she will put her life on the line to keep him safe."

He stepped closer, his shadow falling over me once more.

"You will live in my estate. You will care for Leo. And in return, no one in this city will ever lay a hand on you again. What is your answer, Tessa?"