629 For seven years, Max—the mafia boss’s massive Cane Corso—never barked at strangers, enemies, or even men pointing guns at his owner, but the night he suddenly broke his silence and growled at Alessandro’s own wife, the feared crime lord realized his most trusted protector had been trying to warn him all along.

The heavy click of tactical boots echoed through the marble entryway.

Isabella gasped, dropping her fork onto her porcelain plate with a loud clatter. "Alessandro! What is that?!"

Four armed men in black leather jackets, carrying silenced submachine guns, swept into the dining room. Leading them was Dominic Falcone’s chief enforcer, a scarred killer named Gianni.

Gianni didn't look at me. He looked directly at Isabella.

"Is it done?" Gianni asked, his gun lowered at his side.

Isabella’s terrified expression vanished instantly. The wide-eyed, innocent wife disappeared, replaced in a split second by a cold, calculating soldier. She sat back in her chair, picked up her wine glass, and took a calm, deliberate sip.

"He was just about to eat," Isabella said smoothly, her voice completely devoid of any emotion. "You're five minutes early, Gianni."

I sat perfectly still, holding my fork. "Gianni. What a surprise. I didn't realize my wife was hosting company."

Gianni laughed, a rough, grating sound. "Sorry to interrupt your last meal, Sandro. But Don Falcone wanted us here to secure the premises before the paramedics arrive. We need to make sure the signed territorial transfers are in order before your heart gives out."

I looked across the table at my wife. "Seven years, Isabella. Two children. Was any of it real?"

Isabella looked at me, and for the very first time, I saw the true woman beneath the mask. Her eyes were hard as granite, filled with a decades-old, inherited hatred.

"My father died in a federal prison because of men like you, Alessandro," she said coldly, laying her napkin beside her plate. "You built your empire on the blood of my family. Did you really think a few pretty smiles and two children would make me forget who I am?"

"The kids," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "Did you love them?"

"They carry my blood," she replied flatly. "They will be raised by the Falcone family, as they should have been from the start. Once you're gone, your empire pays for their future."

"I see," I said.

I set my fork down on the table.

"You know, Isabella," I murmured, leaning back in my chair. "You planned everything so meticulously. The slow poison. The fake medical history. The quiet insertion into my life. It was brilliant."

She frowned, sensing something wrong in my calm demeanor. "Gianni, put a bullet in his head. We don't need to wait for the poison."

Gianni raised his submachine gun, aiming it straight at my chest. "Goodbye, Don Vitale."

"You made only one mistake, Isabella," I said, ignoring the gun pointed at my heart.

"What mistake?" she snapped.