523 After the Divorce, the Billionaire Mafia Boss Hunted Down the Woman Who Fled With His Baby Until Three Little Faces Exposed the Secret His Own Family Buried

By sunrise, the rain had cleared, leaving the New York skyline bathed in a cold, amber light.

At a heavily guarded private compound in Westchester—a estate secured by eighty elite Vale enforcers—Maya and the triplets were resting under the supervision of a private medical team. The children had been given warm milk, bathed, and put to sleep in a massive, sunlit bedroom guarded by bulletproof glass and heavy steel doors.

In the grand study downstairs, Sebastian stood before a floor-to-ceiling glass window, staring out over the misty valley. He had changed into a clean black shirt, his face stitched where the glass had cut him, his gray eyes colder than absolute zero.

Marko walked in, setting a heavy metal briefcase on the mahogany desk.

"Thomas Hart and Clarissa have fled to their private estate in Long Island," Marko reported. "They know the hit failed. Thomas is mobilizing his remaining assets to charter a private jet to Switzerland at noon."

Sebastian didn't turn around. "Where is my mother?"

Marko hesitated. "Victoria Vale was picked up by our team two hours ago in Greenwich. She is being held in the lower drawing room."

Sebastian turned slowly. "Bring her up."

Two minutes later, the double doors opened.

Victoria Vale walked into the room. She was sixty-two years old, but looked forty-five—immaculately dressed in a white cashmere suit, her silver-blonde hair styled flawlessly, her blue eyes sharp and calculating. She showed no fear, no remorse. She walked across the Persian rug as if she still owned the world.

"Sebastian," Victoria said softly, her voice melodic and smooth. "You look terrible, my darling."

"Sit down, Victoria," Sebastian said, his tone devoid of any filial warmth.

Victoria raised an eyebrow, taking a seat in one of the leather armchairs. "You call me by my name now? After twenty years of mourning me?"

"You let me believe you were dead," Sebastian said, leaning against the desk, crossing his arms. "You let me grow up an orphan while you lived in luxury in Connecticut. You ordered Viktor to threaten my wife. You tried to erase my children."

Victoria sighed, shaking her head as if dealing with a stubborn child. "I did what was necessary to protect the Vale name, Sebastian! Look at what happened last night! You let a cheap, working-class girl weaken you, and now Thomas Hart has declared war on us! If you had married Clarissa, our syndicate would have controlled the entire Eastern Seaboard!"

"I don't care about the syndicate," Sebastian said quietly.

Victoria laughed dismissively. "Don't be absurd! You are a Vale! Blood and empire run in your veins! Your father thought he could run away with love too, and look what happened to him!"

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. "What happened to my father, Victoria?"

Victoria’s laughter died in her throat. She shifted uncomfortably under his icy glare. "He... he was killed by the Volkovs."

"Lie to me again," Sebastian whispered, stepping toward her, "and I will have Marko hand you over to the Federal Prosecutors before the sun sets."

Victoria’s breath hitched. "Arthur... your grandfather... he gave the order. Your father wanted to give the ledgers to the government. He wanted to dismantle the family. Arthur couldn't allow it."

"And you let him do it," Sebastian said, the horror of his bloodline fully laying bare before him. "You let Arthur execute your own husband, and then you feigned your death so you could orchestrate my life from behind the scenes."

"I did it for YOU!" Victoria shouted, her composure finally breaking, her eyes wild. "To make you king! A king cannot have attachments, Sebastian! Love makes men weak! Maya Bennett made you weak!"

"Maya made me human," Sebastian corrected her softly.

He leaned down, opening the briefcase Marko had brought in. Inside were stacks of legal documents, sworn affidavits from Viktor Vance, and financial records detailing twenty years of Victoria’s illegal wire transfers and conspiracy to commit murder.

"You have two choices, Victoria," Sebastian said, his voice flat and absolute. "Option one: You sign these documents transferring every single asset, stock, and property under your name into a blind trust managed by Maya Bennett for the future of Noah, Ivy, and Owen. Then, you step onto a boat tonight and live out the rest of your life in total isolation on a remote island in the South Pacific, with no phones, no internet, and no contact with the outside world."

Victoria stared at him in disbelief. "And option two?"

Sebastian pressed a button on his desk. The door opened, and two FBI special agents walked into the study, flanked by armed marshals.

"Option two," Sebastian said, "is you spend the rest of your natural life in a maximum-security federal penitentiary for grand conspiracy, wire fraud, and accessory to attempted murder."

Victoria looked from the federal agents to her son. She saw no mercy in Sebastian’s gray eyes. She saw the same cold, unstoppable iron that had built the Vale empire—only this time, it was pointed directly at her.

With trembling hands, Victoria reached for the pen on the desk.