777 A Little Girl Asked the Mafia Boss, “Why Did You Fire My Mom?”—Then Her Mother’s Name, a Shoebox of Unopened Letters, and One Signature Changed Everything

While Arthur Pendelton was handled, a far greater threat was rising in the shadows of the Manhattan underworld.

Don Carmine Lucchesi—the oldest and most ruthless rival boss in New York—had learned about the scene in the lobby. His informants inside Moretti Plaza had reported that Dominic had abandoned the commission meeting for a poor woman and a little girl.

In Carmine’s mind, Dominic Moretti had finally grown soft.

Inside a dimly lit steakhouse in Little Italy, Carmine sat with his lieutenants, cutting into a rare steak. "Vincenzo Moretti was a lion," Carmine growled, chewing slowly. "His son, Dominic, is acting like a fool over a former maid and a bastard child. This is our chance to seize the Brooklyn piers."

"What are your orders, Don Carmine?" his chief enforcer asked.

"Send a message," Carmine replied, a cruel grin spreading across his face. "We don't attack Dominic directly. We hit the weak spot he just brought into his house."

Back at the penthouse, morning broke over the sunlit skyline. Clara woke up feeling stronger, the warm color returning to her cheeks. She walked into the kitchen wearing one of Dominic's silk shirts, finding Dominic making pancakes alongside Lily, who was sitting on the high counter wearing her yellow rain boots over her pajamas.

The sight brought a soft, tearful smile to Clara's face. For seven years, she had dreamed of this moment, believing it was impossible.

Dominic turned, catching her eye. He walked over, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her close, pressing a soft, long kiss to her lips that made her breath catch.

"Good morning," Dominic whispered against her cheek.

"Is this real?" Clara asked softly, resting her hand against his broad chest.

"It's real," Dominic promised. "And no one is ever going to take you away from me again."