The first time Leo reached for me, I thought he wanted my necklace. By the third time, the entire restaurant had gone quiet. Aurelia was packed that Friday night, all amber light and white tablecloths, with a jazz trio fighting to be heard over champagne glasses and people who spoke louder whenever they mentioned money.

By sunrise, the rain had stopped, leaving the grounds of the estate shrouded in a thick, ghostly morning mist.

The estate had been transformed into an impenetrable fortress. Over twenty heavily armed operatives patched the damaged walls, replaced shattered windows, and patrolled the perimeter with Belgian Malinois attack dogs.

In the basement interrogation suite—a soundproofed concrete bunker beneath the east wing—the captured hitman sat bound to a heavy metal chair under a bright halogen light.

Dante stood in the shadows near the observation glass, wearing a fresh black suit, sipping dark coffee. I stood beside him, holding Leo, who was happily chewing on a silicone teething ring, entirely unbothered by the quiet underground environment as long as he was near me.

Marco walked out of the interrogation room, wiping his hands on a clean towel.

"He talked," Marco reported, stepping up to Dante. "Lorenzo Valenti didn't just send them to eliminate Elena. He knows about her claim to the Valenti family estate."

I frowned, looking up from Leo. "What claim? My mother left twenty-two years ago."

"Under old Don Carmine's original will," Dante explained, turning to face me, "the family holdings were divided equally between his three children—Sofia, Lorenzo, and your mother, Elena. When your mother disappeared, her thirty-three percent share was held in a blind trust in Zurich, waiting for proof of her death or the emergence of her legal heir."

My eyes widened in realization. "Thirty-three percent of the Valenti empire..."

"It amounts to nearly four hundred million dollars in legal shipping assets, real estate, and banking trusts," Marco added. "When Lorenzo took over the family six months ago, he tried to claim the trust. But the Swiss bankers refused to release the funds without proof that your mother died without leaving an heir."

"Which means," Dante said softly, "the moment you turned up alive in Boston, Lorenzo’s hold on the Valenti empire collapsed. If you present yourself to the family council, you legally own one-third of his entire operation."

A heavy silence filled the underground hallway.

"I don't want his mob money," I said firmly, holding Leo closer. "I just want my mother back. Did the hitman say where she is?"

Marco exchanged a dark glance with Dante before looking back at me. "She's alive, Elena."

My heart leaped into my throat. Tears pricked my eyes. "She's alive? Where?"

"Lorenzo is holding her at the old Valenti compound in Gloucester," Marco revealed. "He’s keeping her alive to force her to sign over her Zurich trust documents. But she has refused to sign anything for eight months."

I let out a shuddering breath, tears of pure relief spilling down my cheeks. My mother was alive. All those months I had spent mourning her, thinking she was lying in a cold grave somewhere in the harbor—she was fighting, holding out, waiting for a chance.

"We have to get her out," I insisted, grabbing Dante's arm. "Dante, please. We have to save her!"

Dante set his coffee cup down on a metal shelf. He looked down at my hand clutching his suit sleeve, then raised his eyes to meet mine.

"A direct assault on the Gloucester compound would trigger a full-scale mafia war in the streets of Boston," Dante said quietly. "The Commission would intervene. Dozens of men would die."

My heart sank. "So you won't help me?"

"I didn't say that," Dante replied, a dangerous, razor-sharp smile touching his lips. "I said a direct assault wouldn't work. But there is another way."

"What way?"

"The Valenti family is hosting the annual Heritage Gala tomorrow night at the Boston Harbor Hotel," Dante revealed. "Every major family, politician, and syndicate boss in the Northeast will be in attendance. Lorenzo plans to use the event to solidify his position as the new Don."

He took a step closer to me, his dark eyes burning with strategic brilliance.

"You are going to walk into that ballroom on my arm, Elena," Dante declared softly. "You are going to present your legal identity to the Commission, demand your mother's release in front of every boss in New York and Boston, and strip Lorenzo of his power before he can even draw a gun."

I stared at him, my breath catching in my chest. "You want me to crash a mob summit?"

"I want you to take back what belongs to you," Dante corrected gently, taking my hand in his. "And I will be standing right beside you with the full force of the Rosselli family at your back."

Leo let out a happy babble in my arms, reaching up and grabbing Dante's tie with his little fist, pulling us closer together.