528 I secretly brought my baby to work, knowing one complaint could get me fired, only to discover she had vanished during the dinner rush. Then I opened the forbidden downstairs office—and found the city’s most feared mafia boss asleep with my daughter curled against his chest.

The next three weeks at the Vance estate passed in a strange, tense blur.

On the surface, life was luxurious. Ellie had the best care, the best food, and a room full of toys. I no longer had to count pennies to buy diapers or worry about being evicted. But underneath the luxury, the tension was suffocating. Armed guards patrolled the grounds day and night. Cameras monitored every hallway.

And then there was Victor.

Every evening, no matter how busy he was, Victor would come up to our suite. He would sit on the floor with Ellie, letting her pull his expensive tie or bang her yellow rattle against his knee. The terrifying mob boss who commanded hundreds of dangerous men melted away into an attentive, protective uncle whenever he was in her presence.

And slowly, against my better judgment, I found myself looking forward to those evenings.

I began to see the man behind the reputation. Victor was fiercely loyal, deeply burdened by his brother’s death, and protective of those he considered family. There was a quiet strength in him that made me feel safe for the first time since my husband died.

One evening, Victor walked into the suite wearing a sharp, custom-tailored tuxedo. He looked breathtakingly handsome, radiating power.

"We have a problem," he said without preamble.

"What happened?" I asked, putting Ellie down in her playpen.

"Tonight is the annual Underground Syndicate Gala," Victor explained. "It’s a formal gathering of all the major crime families in the city. Traditionally, it’s where peace treaties are upheld and disputes are settled."

"And what does that have to do with me?"

"Moretti has put out a public challenge," Victor said, his jaw tight. "He is spreading rumors that I am hiding a fake heir to Julian’s fortune to consolidate power. He claims Ellie isn't Julian’s child, and that I'm using an illegitimate baby to claim Julian's assets."

I felt a surge of rage burn in my chest. "How dare he!"

"In our world, public reputation is everything," Victor continued. "If the other crime families believe Moretti's rumors, my authority will be questioned, and a war will break out on the streets. To silence them, I need to present you and Ellie at the gala tonight."

"Bring a baby to a mafia gala?" I gasped, shaking my head. "Victor, that’s crazy! It’s dangerous!"

"It’s safer than leaving you here tonight," Victor countered quietly. "My intelligence team intercepted a message. The traitor in our house plans to make a move while I am away at the event. If you stay here, you’ll be an easy target. But at the gala, under the eyes of all five families, Moretti cannot touch you without breaking the ancient syndicate laws."

I looked at Ellie, then back at Victor. "Are you sure about this?"

"I will be by your side every second," Victor promised, stepping closer and offering his hand. "Trust me, Lena."

I took a deep breath, nodding. "Okay."

An hour later, I was dressed in an elegant floor-length navy blue silk gown that Mrs. Gable had provided. My hair was styled into a classy updo, and a subtle touch of makeup highlighted my features. Ellie was dressed in a darling white dress with a matching headband.

When I stepped out into the hallway, Victor was waiting. His eyes swept over me, a brief flash of genuine admiration softening his hard features.

"You look stunning, Lena," he murmured softly.

"Thank you," I blushed slightly. "Let's get this over with."

The gala was held in the grand ballroom of a historic downtown hotel. The room was filled with hundreds of people dressed in exquisite formalwear—men in sharp tuxedos, women dripped in diamonds. But behind the laughter and champagne glasses, the air was thick with malice and danger.

As Victor walked into the ballroom with me on his arm and Marcus carrying Ellie in a secure sling, the entire room went dead silent. Hundreds of eyes turned toward us.

"Keep your chin up," Victor whispered near my ear. "Show them you belong here."

I straightened my posture, holding my head high.

Suddenly, an older man with silver hair and a sharp, sinister scar running down his cheek stepped out of the crowd, blocking our path. He held a glass of whiskey, a cruel smirk plastered on his face.

Anthony Moretti.

"Victor," Moretti drawled, his voice like gravel. "I see you brought your little charity project." His cold eyes flicked to me, filled with disgusting arrogance. "And this must be the waitress who seduced poor Julian away from his family."

Before I could speak, Victor stepped forward, his body shielding me instantly.

"Watch your mouth, Anthony," Victor said, his voice deadly calm. "You are speaking to the widow of Julian Vance and the mother of the future head of the Vance family."

Moretti laughed mockingly. "A baby girl? Head of the Vance family? Don't make me laugh, Victor. That bastard child isn't a Vance. You're just using her to keep control of Julian’s billions!"

"She is a Vance!" I snapped, stepping up right beside Victor, my anger overriding my fear. "Her father was Julian Vance, a man ten times better than you will ever be! If you ever insult my daughter again, you'll answer to me!"

The room gasped at my outburst. Moretti’s smirk vanished, replaced by an ugly scowl.

Victor looked down at me, a proud, lethal smile gracing his face. "You heard her, Anthony. Now move out of our way before I clear the path myself."

Moretti glared at us, his hand tightening around his glass until his knuckles turned white. But before he could respond, a sudden commotion broke out near the main entrance.