"The Billionaire Mob Boss Was Moments Away From a Power Marriage—Until Four Mini-Me Boys Walked Into a Restaurant Restroom and Blew Up His Entire Empire!"

By nightfall, the brownstone was wrapped in an eerie, guarded silence. Rain began to patter against the high glass windows of the library, washing away the frost and leaving distorted trails of water that reflected the city lights.

Elena sat in a velvet armchair near the stone fireplace, a blanket draped over her knees, watching the four boys play chess on the floor. It wasn't an ordinary game of chess. Marco and Mateo were playing against Leo and Dante, using two boards simultaneously, moving pieces with terrifying speed and arguing over flanking maneuvers that sounded more like military strategy than childhood play.

"Mateo, your knight is exposed to the bishop," Leo criticized, crossing his arms and leaning forward. "You're leaving your king’s flank unprotected just to capture a pawn. That's sloppy."

"It's a feint, genius," Mateo fired back with a triumphant smirk. "Look at Dante's rook. While he takes my knight, Marco is sliding his queen down the back rank. Check."

Dante cursed under his breath—a word he definitely learned from my security team—and knocked his own king over with a disgusted sigh.

I stood in the doorway, watching them with a swelling sense of pride and an acute, gnawing dread. These four boys had Elena’s brilliant, tactical mind and my ruthless, stubborn blood running through their veins. They weren't just my children; they were the future of an empire that was currently being circled by wolves.

Elena looked up, meeting my eyes across the room. She stood up smoothly, setting her blanket aside, and walked over to me. Her hands reached up, adjusting the lapels of my dark suit jacket. Her touch was warm, but her fingers were tense.

"What did Luca tell you?" she asked quietly.

"Everything," I replied, covering her hands with mine. "Barrett has known about Chicago since the day you arrived. He’s the one who leaked your clinic records. But he didn't strike back then because he thought he could use you as blackmail to force me into marrying Sloane. When I dumped Sloane and married you, his entire plan collapsed. Now, he’s cornered, desperate, and dangerous."

"What is he planning, Dominic?"

"He’s going to target the shipping terminals tonight," I said, looking out toward the dark horizon of the Boston harbor. "The key Luca gave him unlocked an old access tunnel beneath Pier 14—a smuggling route my grandfather built during Prohibition. Barrett thinks he can move an armed strike team through that tunnel, seize our primary depot, and choke off our supply lines before dawn."

Elena didn't gasp or panic. Instead, her hazel eyes narrowed with a fierce, cold calculation that mirrored my own. Six years of raising four boys on her own in the rough neighborhoods of Chicago had turned her into a warrior.

"Then you don't defend the pier," she said flatly. "You let him walk into the tunnel."

I looked at her, a wicked, genuine smile breaking across my face for the first time all day. "You always were smarter than my generals."

"Dad?"

A small voice interrupted us. We turned to see all four boys standing shoulder-to-shoulder in the center of the library rug. They weren't smiling anymore. They stood perfectly upright, hands behind their backs, eyes fixed on the map of Boston harbor pinned to my corkboard across the room.

"Are the bad men coming to our house?" Dante asked, his little fists clenched tightly at his sides.

I walked over to them, kneeling down so I was level with their fierce, identical faces. "No, Dante. The bad men aren't coming anywhere near this house. Your mother and my men are going to keep this fortress impenetrable."

"Are you going to fight them, Dad?" Leo asked, his voice steady, his eyes searching mine for any sign of hesitation.

"I'm going to end this, Leo," I answered honestly. "So that none of you ever have to hide in the shadows again."

Leo stepped forward, untying a small piece of dark blue ribbon from his chess set, and placed it into my open palm. "Take this. For good luck. In Chicago, whenever we had a bad test at school, Mom gave us ribbons. It means the Morettis don't lose."