The silence in the grand office after the exit of the associates felt heavy, vibrating with an unspoken tension that could shatter glass.

The following evening, the annual Gala of the New York Underworld commission was held at the Morty estate’s grand ballroom. Hundreds of elite criminals, corrupt politicians, and cartel leaders mingled beneath glittering crystal chandeliers, sipping champagne and discussing territorial boundaries.

Lorenzo stood at the center of the room, wearing a bespoke tuxedo, holding a glass of scotch. Alina stood beside him in a stunning emerald-green gown that stunned the entire room into silence. She no longer looked like a maid hiding in the shadows; she looked like a queen reclaiming her throne.

Midway through the evening, Victor Santoro stepped up to the dais, holding a microphone. His face was twisted into a malicious grin.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Victor’s voice boomed over the sound system. "Before we discuss territorial allotments, we must address a security breach. Our esteemed boss, Lorenzo Morty, has allowed a compromised woman and an unverified child into the inner sanctum. He has grown weak!"

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Several capos reached inside their jackets.

Lorenzo didn't flinch. He took a slow sip of his drink, setting it down on a velvet tray with a soft clink.

"Finish your speech, Victor," Lorenzo said smoothly, his voice carrying effortlessly across the silent ballroom. "Please. Tell everyone how you hired an assassin to murder a three-year-old child in my master suite last night."