On Christmas Eve, Mafia boss Dominic Moretti found his maid’s three-year-old daughter sitting alone beneath the grand staircase, clutching a photograph and whispering, “I’m waiting for my mom.”

An hour later, three black armored SUVs tore through the front gates of the Moretti estate in Long Island.

Salvatore Vitale’s enforcers had already breached the perimeter, holding Victoria hostage in the grand ballroom—the exact place where my engagement party had taken place only twelve hours earlier.

Isabella Vitale stood near the fireplace, holding a glass of champagne, watching her father's men destroy the estate's artwork. Victoria was kneeling on the rug, her hands bound, blood trickling from a cut on her cheek.

"Where is he, Victoria?" Isabella sneered, tapping her high heels against the marble floor. "Where did your pathetic son hide his little parlor maid and that bastard brat?"

"She isn't a bastard," Victoria said proudly, raising her head. "She is a Moretti. And my son will tear you to pieces."

"Your son is outnumbered," Salvatore Vitale scoffed, stepping out from the study with a heavy pistol in his hand. "The Commission has turned against him. By noon, the Vitale family will rule all of New York."

Suddenly, the massive stained-glass skylight above the ballroom shattered into thousands of cascading pieces.

Tactical flashbangs detonated in mid-air, blinding and deafening Salvatore’s men.

Before the smoke could clear, my team breached the glass doors. Enzo and ten of my most loyal soldiers flooded the room, taking down Vitale’s enforcers with lethal efficiency.

I dropped down from the balcony above, landing squarely in front of Salvatore Vitale.

Salvatore gasped, raising his gun, but I disarmed him in a fraction of a second, shattering his wrist and slamming him down onto his knees on the very spot where Lily had sat eating her cookie hours before.

Isabella shrieked, backing away toward the fireplace as my men surrounded her.

"It's over, Salvatore," I said, holding my weapon pressed against the back of his neck. "Your captains have already been arrested by federal agents using the financial records I leaked to the FBI an hour ago. The Vitale empire is finished."

Salvatore stared at me in horror. "You... you burned your own network to destroy me?"

"I destroyed your network," I corrected him. "The Moretti family has gone legitimate. Starting today."

I looked over at Isabella, whose fake composure had completely crumbled into ugly, terrified weeping.

"You threatened my wife," I said, my voice echoing off the high ceilings of the ballroom. "You tried to murder my daughter. You will spend the rest of your natural life in a federal maximum-security prison for conspiracy, extortion, and attempted murder."

Enzo stepped forward, placing heavy steel handcuffs on Isabella and throwing her to the ground beside her father.

I walked over to Victoria, cutting the plastic zip-ties binding her wrists. She looked up at me with tears streaming down her bruised face.

"Dominic... I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I ruined your life."

"You didn't ruin it," I said, helping her stand. "You delayed it. But you are done running this family, Victoria. You are going to live quietly in Italy. You will never interfere in my life, my marriage, or my daughter's future again."