691 "When the mafia boss’s silent triplets refused to calm down for anyone except the exhausted waitress, Dominic realized the only way to protect his daughters was to kidnap the one woman holding the key to their silence.""The Mafia Boss’s Silent Triplets Spoke Their First Words at Lunch, and Every Finger Pointed at the Waitress

The kiss was raw, intense, and filled with months of unspoken tension. When Dominic finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, his eyes dark with possession.

"If you stay," Dominic growled softly, "you stay as my woman. Not just the nanny. Nobody in this city touches what is mine."

Hannah’s heart hammered against her chest. "Is that a proposal or a threat, Mr. Vale?"

"It’s a promise," he whispered, kissing her once more, soft and lingering, before pulling away.

However, peace in the Vale mansion was short-lived. The next morning, news broke across the underworld: Viktor Moretti had called an emergency tribunal of the Five Families. He accused Dominic of violating territorial peace treaties and harboring an "unstable civilian" who was endangering syndicate bloodlines.

At breakfast, Eleanor Vale strode into the dining hall, accompanied by two stern-looking men in grey suits—lawyers for the Vale family estate.

"It's time to end this farce, Dominic," Eleanor announced coldly, tossing a stack of legal documents onto the table next to Hannah’s coffee cup.

Hannah instinctively pulled Emma closer to her lap. "What is this?"

"Temporary custody revocation," Eleanor said with a wicked sneer. "As the legal matriarch of the Vale trust, I have filed paperwork claiming Dominic is mentally unfit to raise the heirs due to his recent erratic behavior—including kidnapping a waitress and bringing war to our front door."

Dominic slammed his fork down, shattering a porcelain plate. "You dare attempt to take my children from me?"

"I am saving this family!" Eleanor barked. "Viktor Moretti will destroy us in the tribunal tomorrow unless we make a deal! The tribunal demands stability. They want you married to a woman of noble syndicate blood, not playing house with a common servant!"

"I would rather burn this city to the ground than let Viktor or you dictate my life," Dominic roared, standing up. The aura of death around him was suffocating.

"If you lose the tribunal vote tomorrow, the syndicate will strip your leadership," Eleanor countered, her voice icy. "They will hand custody of the triplets to Viktor’s daughter—their biological mother, who is returning from Italy tonight."

Hannah gasped. "Julianna is coming back?"

"Yes," Eleanor said triumphantly. "Julianna Moretti has repented. She is ready to claim her daughters. The tribunal will side with a biological mother over a mob boss living with a wild maid."

Hannah looked at Dominic. His jaw was locked tight, his knuckles white. The legal and underworld chess match was rigged against him. A unmarried mob leader facing allegations of instability stood no chance against the combined political pressure of the Italian tribunal and a returning biological mother.

"There is one loophole," Marco whispered from the corner of the room, stepping forward carefully.

Dominic turned his glare toward his bodyguard. "Speak."

"The ancient syndicate constitution," Marco explained. "If a Don marries a woman who has legally adopted the heirs prior to a tribunal challenge, the mother’s former blood ties are completely severed under underworld law. A mother who abandoned her children loses all rights if a lawful 'Materfamilias' is crowned."

Eleanor laughed hysterically. "Absurd! That requires an official syndicate wedding within twenty-four hours! He would have to marry her!" She pointed a crooked, disgust-filled finger at Hannah.

Dominic looked down at Hannah.

Hannah looked at the three girls. Grace was chewing on a piece of toast, whispering, "Mama, kiss," while pointing to her own cheek.

If Julianna came back, these girls would be thrust back into the hands of the woman who traumatized them. They would be used as pawns in a bloody mob war.

Hannah stood up, looking Eleanor dead in the eye.

"Get the dress," Hannah said coldly.