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My phone was still pressed against my ear. On the other end, Marcus—my most trusted lieutenant—was breathing heavily. The sound of muffled police radios and shouting filtered through the speaker. / Chapter 13 / 20

Chapter 13 - A New Rule in the BoardroomThe business side of my empire hadn't stopped just because I became a single father. But the way I ran it had fundamentally changed.

At 10:00 AM, the oak-paneled conference room on the top floor of the Moretti Tower was packed with my senior capos, regional lieutenants, and financial advisors. They were whispering among themselves, confused by the sudden change in schedule.

I walked in, wearing my signature tailored suit, but my demeanor was different. Sharper. Colder.

“Boss,” Marcus greeted, nodding respectfully as I took my seat at the head of the table. “The shipping updates from Galveston are on your desk. And the council from Chicago is calling at noon.”

“Reschedule Chicago,” I said smoothly, resting my hands on the mahogany table.

Marcus blinked. “Reschedule Chicago? Boss, they're our primary distributors for the Midwest. They won't like being kept waiting.”

“Tell them my family comes first,” I replied, my voice dropping into a register that commanded absolute silence across the room. “And listen to me, all of you—this is the new policy for the Moretti syndicate effective immediately.”

I leaned forward, locking eyes with each man in the room.

“We don't touch human trafficking. We don't deal with drugs that find their way near schools. And if anyone—anyone in this room or under our protection—ever harms a child, I won't let the police handle it. I will personally execute them in this very room.”

A heavy, suffocating silence settled over the boardroom. Not a single man breathed. They knew I wasn't making a threat; I was stating a law of nature.

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The silence in the dining room felt heavier than the marble beneath my shoes. For twenty-five years, Victor Salvatore had been my shadow. When rival factions tried to poison my water supply in Naples back in '98, Victor caught it. When the tax authorities in Milan tried to freeze my accounts, Victor rerouted them. He was more than a chief of staff; he was the architect of my survival.

The silence in the dining room felt heavier than the marble beneath my s...

My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird, each beat echoing the phantom sensation of that tiny shift in my right shoe. Ninety-nine specialists had labeled my paralysis permanent—a psychological blockade fused with trauma after Audrey’s fatal car crash. Yet, here I was, staring at an eight-year-old girl who looked entirely unsurprised.

My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird, each beat echoing...

The helicopter touched down on the private helipad atop the Moretti Grand Hotel just as the Chicago sun began to melt into Lake Michigan, staining the horizon the color of fresh blood.

The helicopter touched down on the private helipad atop the Moretti Gran...

“Understood, Boss,” Salvatore murmured, lowering his head.

“Good,” I said, standing up and buttoning my jacket. “Now, if you'll excuse me, Maya has an art project scheduled at her preschool in forty minutes, and I am her official glitter coordinator.”

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