Chapter 2 - The Ghost of the Syndicate
Julian rushed forward, his face pale, his handgun raised toward the night sky. "Boss, this is a trap! It's a setup by the Russo family or the feds! We don't know who these street urchins are! Let me have the security team sweep them away—"
"Touch them, Julian, and I will execute you on this pavement," Adrian said quietly.
The absolute silence that followed was terrifying.
Adrian knelt down in the cold rain, his bespoke suit soaking through as his knee hit the asphalt. He looked at the twin girls. They had his jawline, his dark hair, and the distinct heterochromia in their right eyes—a rare genetic trait handed down through three generations of Moretti men.
Three children. Claire had been pregnant when he forced her to sign those papers. She had been carrying triplets.
“You have ten minutes,” he had told her. “I didn’t betray you... when the truth comes out, you will remember this room,” she had replied.
The memory hit him like a physical blow. The exhaustion around her eyes. The way she held her coat closed over her stomach. He hadn't just exiled the woman he loved; he had condemned his own unborn children to poverty, obscurity, and constant danger.
"What are your names?" Adrian asked, his voice shaking slightly.
"I'm Leo," the eldest boy said. "These are my sisters, Maya and Elena. Mom said we had to stay hidden. She raised us in the old industrial district near the docks. She worked three jobs so we wouldn't have to ask anyone for help."
"She never reached out? Never used the Moretti name?"
"She hated your name," Leo said sharply. "She said the Moretti name was built on blood and lies. But three nights ago, men broke into our apartment. Mom hid us in the floorboards. We heard them say they were taking her to 'finish what was started eight years ago.' They left this pen on the table."
Adrian stood up slowly. The air around him seemed to drop ten degrees. The grief that had threaten to break him was instantly superseded by a cold, apocalyptic rage.
"Julian," Adrian called out.
"Yes, Boss?"
"Call the safehouse. Clear out the penthouse. Bring my personal medical team and the best chefs in the city to the estate. These three are my heirs."
"Boss, with all due respect, we don't have DNA proof—"
Adrian turned, his eyes burning with an unholy fire. "Look at their eyes, Julian. Look at their faces. They are Morettis. And someone in this city has my wife."
May you like
"Your ex-wife, sir," Julian corrected nervously.
"If she is breathing," Adrian snarled, grabbing Julian by the collar and pulling him close enough to feel his frantic breath, "she is the Duchess of this syndicate. And whoever put their hands on her will watch their entire legacy burn before I let them die."
