The Mafia Boss Came Home Early — And Heard The Three Daughters Who Hadn't Spoken In 14 Months Singing In The Kitchen With Their Housekeeper

Four days after Dominic proposed, the war that had been brewing in the dark finally struck the Russo estate.

It happened at two o'clock on a moonless Tuesday morning.

The estate was silent. Inside the master bedroom, Dominic woke instantly.

His eyes snapped open in the dark. It wasn't a sound that woke him; it was the sudden, subtle cutting of the estate’s auxiliary power generators—a micro-drop in the atmospheric hum of the air conditioning.

He slid out of bed with fluid, silent grace, pulling a sleek black semi-automatic pistol from the nightstand safe.

Beside him, Elena stirred, rubbing her eyes. "Dominic? What is it?"

"Stay in bed," Dominic commanded softly, pulling a dark velvet robe over his trousers. "Do not move."

Suddenly, the night was shattered by the sharp, metallic chatter of suppressed automatic gunfire from the garden below.

Thwip-thwip-thwip-thwip!

"Dominic!" Elena gasped, sitting up in terror.

The master bedroom door burst open. Marco stood in the doorway, blood streaming from a cut on his forehead, holding a submachine gun.

"Boss! It's Cassano’s men!" Marco barked frantically over the sound of heavy boots echoing on the grand staircase below. "They cut the main gate sensors! They're inside the east wing!"

Dominic’s eyes flared with an apocalyptic rage. "Where are my daughters?!"

"The east wing!" Marco shouted. "They're heading toward the children's bedrooms!"

Elena let out a blood-curdling scream and bolted out of bed. Before Dominic could stop her, she sped past Marco into the dark, smoke-filled hallway.

"Elena! NO!" Dominic roared.

In the hallway, red emergency strobe lights flickered against the marble walls. The air was thick with gunpowder, cordite, and the scent of ozone.

Elena ran like a mother wild with panic. She didn't think about guns, she didn't think about mafia wars, she didn't think about her own safety. All she saw in her mind was the ghost of her four-year-old Sofia in South Boston—and she swore to God above that she would die before she let another child be taken from her.

She reached the children's wing just as two heavily armed men in dark tactical gear kicked open the door to Mia’s bedroom.

"Get the kids!" one of the gunmen barked in an Italian accent. "Lorenzo wants them alive!"

"LEAVE THEM ALONE!" Elena screamed.

She grabbed a heavy bronze statue of a horse from a hallway pedestal and hurled it with all her strength at the lead gunman.

The statue struck him square in the temple with a sickening CRACK! The man stumbled backward, dropping his assault rifle.

The second gunman turned, swinging his weapon toward Elena. "Die, bitch—"

BOOM! BOOM!

Two massive gunshots echoed through the corridor.

The second gunman’s chest exploded in blood as two 9mm rounds tore through him. He crumpled to the floor like a sack of wet flour.

Dominic strode through the smoke like an ancient god of war, his pistol raised, his face twisted into a mask of pure, lethal fury. He stepped over the fallen gunmen and grabbed Elena, throwing her behind his back.

"Lucia! Valentina! Mia!" Elena cried out, lunging into the bedroom.

Inside, the three little girls were huddled together under Mia’s bed, crying hysterically, their hands over their ears.

Elena dropped to her knees, reaching under the bed, pulling all three of them into her arms at once. "I've got you! I've got you! You're safe! Miss Elena is here!"

"Papa! Miss Elena!" Mia sobbed, burying her face into Elena’s neck.

Dominic stepped into the doorway, his eyes sweeping the dark grounds outside the window. Marco and six Russo soldiers swept past, clearing the hallway with heavy, rhythmic gunfire.

"The house is secure, Boss!" Marco’s voice boomed down the corridor ten minutes later. "All eight intruders eliminated! Lorenzo Cassano stayed in his vehicle at the perimeter—he's fleeing toward the city!"

Dominic turned around.

In the middle of the ruined, smoke-filled bedroom, Elena sat on the floor, holding all three girls tightly against her chest. She was rock-singing softly, her voice trembling, tears streaming down her soot-stained cheeks as she whispered the familiar words over and over:

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine... you make me happy, when skies are gray..."

Lucia and Valentina were singing along through their tears, their tiny hands clutching Elena’s nightgown.

Dominic stood in the center of the room, looking down at his family.

The cold, violent beast that lived inside his soul roared for vengeance. Lorenzo Cassano had dared to send armed killers into the bedrooms of his children. He had terrified the woman who gave him back his life.