“You look hurt… do you need a hug?” the maid’s six-year-old daughter asked me—the most feared mafia boss in New York

I brought Isabella.

Not because I wanted her in danger.

Because she refused to let me face it alone.

Marco entered through the crypt below.

My men surrounded the streets.

Federal agents waited two blocks away.

But Vittorio had wired the cathedral with explosives.

Any attempt to storm the building would kill Sofia.

She knelt before the altar, chains around her wrists.

Vittorio stood behind her holding a detonator.

“You came,” he said.

“You knew I would.”

“Where are the children?”

“Safe.”

His expression darkened.

“You never learned obedience.”

“No. You never learned love.”

He laughed.

“Love is simply fear wearing perfume.”

Isabella stepped forward.

“Elena loved Alessandro enough to die for him.”

“Elena was weak.”

“She destroyed your empire.”

His smile vanished.

I saw then what truly haunted him.

Not prison.

Not death.

Elena.

The woman he tried to erase had become the reason every secret surfaced.

Vittorio lifted the detonator.

“The Moretti name dies tonight.”

“No,” I said. “It died years ago.”

I removed my family ring and threw it onto the marble floor.

The gold struck the stone with a sharp sound.

“I don’t want your name.”

Vittorio stared at the ring.

For decades, men had killed to wear it.

I had spent my life believing it was a crown.

It was only a chain.

Marco emerged from the side aisle.

Vittorio’s face changed.

“You.”Marco stepped into the candlelight.

“You stole my son.”

“I made him powerful.”

“You made him afraid.”

Vittorio aimed a weapon at him.

Marco did not stop walking.

“You want the truth?” Marco said. “Lucia never loved you. She stayed because you threatened Alessandro.”

Vittorio fired.

The bullet struck Marco’s chest.

He fell.

I moved, but Isabella grabbed my arm.

Vittorio raised the detonator.

“One more step.”

Marco lay bleeding near the altar.

My biological father looked at me.

I had known him all my life without knowing him at all.

“Don’t let him choose who you become,” he whispered.

Then Sofia moved.

She wrapped her chains around Vittorio’s legs and pulled.

He fell backward.

The detonator flew from his hand.

I lunged.

Isabella grabbed Sofia.

Marco reached for the device.

Vittorio fired again.

The bullet struck Marco’s shoulder.

But he caught the detonator before it hit the floor.

Vittorio and I crashed against the altar.

He clawed at my face.

“You are nothing without me!”

I pinned him beneath me.

“No,” I said. “I was nothing because of you.”

My hand closed around his throat.