The Maid’s Toddler Told the Mafia Boss He Took My Mommy, and the Man She Pointed At Made His Blood Run Cold

While peace had returned to the mansion, the waves created by Victor Hale’s betrayal were crashing against the criminal underworld of the Northeast.

By noon, news had reached the Moretti crime family in New York that their shadow operation in Coldwater had been completely dismantled. Their weapons shipment at Blackwood Creek had been seized, six of their top enforcers were dead, and Victor Hale was locked in a subterranean cell beneath Adrian Mercer’s estate, singing every secret he knew to stay alive.

In the executive office of Mercer Freight at the harbor, Adrian sat at his walnut desk, reviewing the real financial ledgers that Marcus had recovered from Victor’s private safe.

Standing across from him was Marcus, holding a secure satellite phone.

"Dominick Moretti called thirty minutes ago, Boss," Marcus reported, his face grave. "He’s demanding a sit-down at the neutral territory line near New Haven. He says if you don't return Victor and compensate him for the destroyed cargo, he’s sending fifty men to Coldwater by weekend."

Adrian didn't look up from his ledger. He dipped his fountain pen into dark blue ink and signed a document approving a fifty-thousand-dollar medical fund for the staff.

"Tell Dominick Moretti that I don't negotiate with men who hire traitors," Adrian said flatly.

"Boss," Marcus warned gently. "A war with the Moretti family will cost us millions. The port authority will shut down our shipping lines if there’s open fighting on the docks."

"There won't be open fighting on the docks," Adrian said, closing the folder with a firm, decisive thud.

He stood up, walking over to the window overlooking the harbor. Below, workers were loading crates of fresh fish and legitimate cargo onto outward-bound vessels. The sun was bright, reflecting off the blue ocean water.

"How is Emily?" Adrian asked.

Marcus smiled faintly. "Dr. Evans finished examining her this morning. No permanent physical injuries, just severe exhaustion and bruising. Rose moved her and the kid out of the staff apartment in the east wing."

Adrian’s jaw tightened. "Moved them where?"

"To the secondary master suite on the second floor," Marcus said. "Rose said a woman who survived two weeks in Blackwood Creek shouldn't be sleeping in a basement staff room."

Adrian turned around, a faint hint of approval in his eyes. "Rose is correct."

"What about Victor?" Marcus asked, his tone darkening. "The men want to know what to do with him."

Adrian picked up his overcoat from the rack. "Bring Victor to the study at four o'clock. I want Emily and Lily to see him one last time before he leaves this city forever."

"Leaves this city?" Marcus blinked, confused. "You're letting him live?"

"Living in a federal penitentiary with a reputation as a rat is far worse than a bullet, Marcus," Adrian said coldly. "The FBI Organized Crime Division has been looking for a way to break the Moretti family for ten years. Victor is going to give them every name, every account, and every bay number on a silver platter."

Marcus stared at his boss, awe washing over his face.

By handing Victor over to the federal government, Adrian wasn't just destroying Victor—he was using the United States Department of Justice as his personal weapon to wipe out the Moretti family without firing a single shot on his own docks.