Everyone in the mansion was terrified of Alejandro Moretti, yet none of them had the courage to save him—except for a little girl with a pink rabbit backpack.

"A four-year-old maid’s daughter used her last EpiPen to save the dying mafia boss everyone feared—after someone inside his own mansion poisoned his wine. But as I knelt beside him, one hidden camera was about to expose the traitor who had watched him collapse.

The wineglass shattered before I reached the study.

I was only four, hiding in the basement staff room with my stuffed rabbit, when I heard something heavy strike the floor upstairs. Mama had warned me, “Whatever happens, Emma, do not leave this room.”

But the silence afterward terrified me more than the noise.

I climbed the servant stairs, my pink rabbit backpack bouncing against my shoulders. At the end of the second-floor hallway, Mr. Moretti’s study door stood slightly open, firelight spilling across the marble like blood.

I pushed it wider.

Alejandro Moretti—the man whose name made armed guards straighten and grown men lower their voices—was lying beside his desk.

His face was gray. His lips were purple. One hand clawed desperately at his throat while his chest jerked with tiny, useless breaths.

Then I smelled something bitter beneath the spilled wine.

“Mr. Moretti?” I whispered.

His eyes found mine, wild and unfocused. He tried to speak, but only a broken rasp escaped.

I knew that sound.

I had made it myself during an allergic reaction while Mama screamed for a taxi driver to hurry. I knew what it meant when your throat became a locked door and every second stole more air.

Anaphylaxis.

I ran back downstairs.

My fingers closed around the EpiPen inside my rabbit backpack—the last one Mama could afford. That morning, she had knelt before me and said, “This is your only spare. Never use it unless you cannot breathe.”

I stared at it, fighting tears.

Upstairs, Mr. Moretti could not breathe.

When I returned, two guards were standing in the doorway.

“What are you doing in here?” one barked, grabbing my arm. “Get away from him!”

“He needs this!” I shouted.

“You touch him, and your mother loses her job.”

My fear turned hot inside my chest, but I swallowed it. “Then fire her.”

I tore free, dropped beside Alejandro, and pulled off the blue safety cap.

Blue to the sky.

Orange to the thigh.

“Stop her!” someone roared.

I pressed the injector against his leg.