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

The rain returned at four in the morning, washing the blood from the stone driveway of the Russo estate.

In a industrial warehouse near the East River, Lorenzo Cassano sat tied to a steel chair, bleeding from both eyes, weeping hysterically.

Surrounding him in the dark warehouse were twenty of Dominic Russo’s most ruthless Capos, their faces lit only by the glowing embers of their cigars.

Dominic stood in front of Lorenzo, wearing a blood-stained leather coat. He held no weapons in his hands. He didn't need them.

"Dominic! Please! I'm sorry! It was a mistake!" Lorenzo shrieked, his voice cracking with pathetic terror. "I didn't mean to hurt the children! I just wanted leverage! I'll give you the docks! I'll leave New York forever!"

Dominic walked up to the tied man. He didn't raise his voice. He leaned down, placing his hands on the armrests of Lorenzo’s chair, his gray eyes inches from the trembling coward's face.

"You walked into my home," Dominic whispered softly. "You put armed men near my daughters' beds. You made Elena cry."

"Dominic, please—"

"There is no negotiation for what you did, Lorenzo," Dominic said flatly. "In my world, when a rat threatens a lion's den, the rat’s entire nest is dug out of the dirt."

Dominic turned his back and walked toward the exit doors of the warehouse.

"Finish it," Dominic ordered his lieutenants. "Every warehouse, every dock, every soldier belonging to the Cassano line. By sunrise, I want the Cassano name erased from New York."

"No! DOMINIC! NOOOO!" Lorenzo’s screams echoed through the industrial complex, drowned out instantly by the roar of the rain outside.

By seven in the morning, Dominic returned to the estate.

The sun was rising through the gray clouds, casting a soft, pearlescent light over the grounds. Clean-up crews had already replaced the broken glass, scrubbed the marble floors, and removed all traces of the night's violence.

Dominic walked up the grand staircase to the master suite.

He opened the door quietly.

On the massive king-sized bed, surrounded by dozens of plush pillows and heavy velvet blankets, slept Elena.

Curled around her like three tiny ducklings were Mia, Lucia, and Valentina. Mia’s thumb was in her mouth; Lucia’s arm was draped over Elena’s waist; Valentina’s head rested on Elena’s shoulder.

Elena was awake. She sat propped up against the carved headboard, her dark eyes resting gently on the doorway as Dominic stepped inside.

Dominic peeled off his heavy coat, dropped his weapons into the concealed wall safe, and walked over to the bed.

He looked down at his children, sleeping peacefully, safe and untouched by the war that had raged outside.

"Is it done?" Elena asked softly, her voice a tender whisper.

"It's over," Dominic answered, sitting on the edge of the mattress. "The Cassano family no longer exists. No one will ever threaten this house again."

Elena reached out her hand, covering his broad, scarred knuckles. "Are you alright?"

Dominic looked at her—this brave, extraordinary woman who had defended his children with a bronze horse statue, who had filled his dark life with song, who sat here now holding everything he loved in her arms.

"I am now," Dominic whispered.

He leaned down and kissed her softly on the forehead, then kissed the foreheads of each of his three sleeping daughters.

"We are moving to the coastal estate in Maine next week," Dominic told her quietly. "I am stepping down from the day-to-day operations of the syndicate. Marco will manage the city. I am going to be a father. And a husband."

Elena’s eyes filled with bright, happy tears. "You're leaving the street?"

"My street is right here," Dominic smiled—a real, brilliant, breathtaking smile that transformed his ruthless face into that of a man completely at peace. "In Maine, the house has a garden twice this size. And a wall big enough for a hundred purple butterflies."

Mia stirred in her sleep, opening her tiny dark eyes. She looked up at Dominic, then reached out her small hand and grabbed his pinky finger.