“MAMA!” The silent mafia boss’s daughter screamed at a waitress—and when the boss saw the woman’s face, he realized the child he thought was his had been stolen from another mother two years ago.

The revelation hit the room with the force of a bomb detonation.

Damian felt the blood drain entirely from his face. His hands, usually as steady as carved granite, clenched into tight fists at his sides.

Julian.

His younger brother. The golden boy of the Caruso family who had died three years ago in a mysterious boat explosion off the coast of Lake Michigan. Julian, who had spent the last six months of his life traveling back and forth between Chicago and Switzerland under the guise of managing the family’s offshore real estate portfolio.

“Julian?” Elena gasped, lifting her tear-stained face from Leah’s shoulder. She looked at Damian in absolute bewilderment. “I… I don't know a Julian! I’ve never met anyone by that name!”

Damian crossed the room in three long strides, stopping right in front of Elena. “Three years ago, in Zurich. Did you know a man named Lucas Vance? A man who spoke fluent Italian, drove a silver Aston Martin, and claimed to be an art restorer?”

Elena’s eyes widened in sheer shock. “Lucas? You… you knew Lucas?”

“Lucas Vance was Julian’s alias,” Damian said, his voice dropping into a harsh, ragged whisper. “He used it whenever he traveled to Europe to avoid our family’s security detail. He was hiding from our enemies.”

Elena shook her head frantically, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “He told me he worked for an auction house! We met at a café near the lake. We were together for four months! Then one day he disappeared. He didn't answer his phone. He didn't leave a note. Two weeks later, I found out I was pregnant!”

“He disappeared because he was murdered,” Damian stated coldly. “His boat was rigged with plastic explosives three miles off the Chicago harbor. I buried what was left of him in a sealed coffin three years ago.”

The pieces of a horrific, tangled puzzle were rapidly falling into place.

Damian turned toward the window, staring out into the dark grounds of his estate. “Julian was supposed to inherit half the Caruso territory. When he died, my late wife, Sofia, realized that without a child of our own, the entire empire would pass to our rival cousin, Victor Vance, if anything happened to me. Sofia knew about Julian’s secret life in Switzerland. She knew he had left a pregnant woman behind.”

“So she didn't just steal a random baby,” Elena said, her voice rising in horrified realization. “She tracked me down! She used Dr. Keller at the St. Verena Clinic to monitor my pregnancy, wait until I gave birth, and then steal Julian’s heir!”

“She stole my brother’s child to secure her own position as the Don’s wife,” Damian confirmed, his tone laced with venom.

He looked down at Leah. The little girl was watching him with her large, intelligent eyes—Julian’s eyes. The exact same blue-gray gaze that Damian had missed every single day since his brother’s death.

Leah wasn't just a stolen baby. She was Julian’s daughter. She was the last living piece of Damian’s bloodline.

Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the medical wing burst open.

Frank, Damian’s chief enforcer, rushed into the room, his face pale and covered in sweat. He held a satellite phone in his gloved hand.

“Boss!” Frank barked urgency filling every syllable. “We have a major breach!”

Damian’s posture straightened instantly. “What happened?”

“Marco’s personal cell phone just pinged off a cell tower three blocks from the estate,” Frank reported frantically. “Before we stripped his gear in the basement, he managed to send a single encrypted text message to Victor Vance!”

Damian stepped toward Frank. “What did the message say?”

Frank swallowed hard, looking nervously at Elena and Leah. “The message said: ‘The waitress found the girl. Damian knows everything. Strike now before he moves the asset.’”

Before Damian could react, the heavy glass windows of the medical wing shattered inward in a spray of deadly shrapnel!