[COMPLETED] The Mafia Boss Found His Maid Hiding a Broken Arm—Then Ordered Every Name Before Sunrise

Dr. Reyes held Kate's injured wrist between two careful hands.

"This needs a hospital," he said.

Kate looked toward Damon.

She had already missed the champagne service. Somewhere below them, three hundred guests were still enjoying an evening she was supposed to help run. The idea of leaving the estate in an ambulance felt more frightening than it should have.

"Will Eleanor know?" she asked.

"Eleanor will know you're receiving treatment," Damon answered. "Nothing more than you choose to tell her."

Dr. Reyes glanced at the swelling. "The break may need a surgical repair. I can control the pain here, not fix the injury."

Kate nodded. The medication had softened the sharpest edge, but the wrist still looked wrong. Four bruises marked her upper arm where Preston Caldwell had gripped her. She couldn't look at them without hearing his voice in the library.

Matteo stood near the door while Walken spoke quietly into an earpiece. Damon had not raised his voice once. That troubled her more than an outburst would have.

"What does 'by sunrise' mean?" she asked him.

Matteo stopped talking.

Damon looked at her. "It means nobody who was there gets to decide what happened before we know who they are."

"That's not an answer."

For several seconds, Damon said nothing.

"You're right," he admitted. "I ordered them identified and located. I haven't decided what follows."

"Please don't decide it because of me."

"Preston broke your arm. That is because of him."

Kate wanted to believe there was a distinction. She also knew enough about the Blackwells to be uncertain what the distinction would cost.

Her phone vibrated again. A voicemail notification from her mother remained unread.

"Can I call her?"

"Of course."

She used her left hand to bring up the number. When her mother answered, Kate said she was working late and had hurt her wrist. She did not describe the library. She promised to call when a doctor had examined it.

Her mother sounded tired. For fourteen months, illness had turned simple conversations into exchanges of reassurance neither woman entirely believed.

"Don't worry about me," her mother said.

Kate watched the darkening blood on her sleeve.

"I know, Mom."

After the call, Damon held out a chair near the door while Reyes arranged a quiet medical transfer. Kate declined the chair. She wanted to stand for a moment longer, even though the room tilted when she tried.

"I don't want the hospital told I fell," she said.

Reyes met her eyes. "Then I won't tell them that. I'll record what you tell me."

It was the first decision anyone had asked her to make since Preston caught her in the library.

Downstairs, the gala continued. Eleanor Blackwell appeared in the corridor wearing a dark evening gown and an expression of controlled alarm. Her eyes went to the ruined sleeve, then to Kate's face.

"You will not be returning to work tonight," she said.

Kate started to apologize.

"No," Eleanor replied, gently but firmly. "You will be cared for. The service can survive without its best organizer."

Eleanor moved aside to let the medical team pass. She did not demand a name or an explanation. The restraint was so unexpected that Kate almost cried again.

A vehicle took her to a hospital equipped to assess the fracture. Dr. Reyes stayed beside her through the transfer. Damon remained at the estate long enough to meet Tomas, the man he had ordered to retrieve four hours of security recordings.

By the time Kate was positioned for X-rays, Tomas had begun assembling a list.

There were fifteen names.

Not fifteen attackers. Fifteen men who had entered with Preston, met with him, or followed him into particular parts of the estate that evening.

Five had been near the library during the relevant period. The others had appeared elsewhere on the property or in the ballroom. Damon insisted the distinctions remain on the list.

"A laugh isn't evidence of an assault," Tomas told Matteo when they reviewed the first report.

"And a name isn't a conviction," Damon replied.

The security recordings gave them something worse than a list.

At 9:06, eleven minutes before a service attendant was seen approaching the library passage, the camera covering the library entrance had been turned toward a blank section of wall.

The movement was deliberate. The feed remained live, but it showed only paneling.

Tomas checked the maintenance schedule. No adjustment had been authorized by the Blackwell household.

Another camera, farther down the corridor, still showed the edge of the service passage. It captured several men entering and leaving, although its angle could not show what happened inside the library.

Damon watched the silent images twice.

"Who had access to that camera?" he asked.

"House security and the contractor brought in for the gala."

"Who hired the contractor?"

Tomas looked at the name printed on the event security order.

"The Caldwell charity committee requested them. Our event office approved the arrangement."

Damon said nothing.

At the hospital, a technician carefully positioned Kate's injured arm for another image. She squeezed the edge of the examination bed with her uninjured hand.

Her phone lit up with a banking notification. A hospital account payment had been received, followed by confirmation that a fund had been established to cover her mother's treatment for the coming year. The donor was not named.

Kate stared at the screen.

Damon had done exactly what he promised.

She should have felt only relief. Instead, another question joined the pain in her wrist.

If he knew so much about the lives of the people working in his house, and the Caldwell guests had been able to control a security camera, how much did powerful men know about the people who depended on them?

Before sunrise, Tomas called Damon with one more detail.

The camera had been moved using a contractor's maintenance account. The request was logged precisely one minute after a call from a number registered to an aide in Senator Caldwell's office.

Damon looked at the fifteen names again.