Chapter 10
The morning sun broke over the horizon, bathing the estate in natural, brilliant daylight. The gravel driveway had been cleared, the glass swept, and the vehicles removed by efficient cleanup crews. There was no trace of the midnight war, save for a few faint tire tracks on the turf.
Inside the quiet medical suite, the room was warm and peaceful.
Sienna lay propped up against soft pillows, her fair face glowing with exhaustion and maternal joy. Wrapped in a pale blue cashmere blanket against her chest was her newborn son—a healthy, beautiful baby boy with a dusting of dark hair and rosy cheeks. Mila sat cross-legged on the foot of the bed, gently stroking her baby brother’s tiny fingers, her face bright with awe.
Nico sat in the armchair beside the bed, freshly dressed in a tailored charcoal suit and a crisp white shirt, his beard immaculately groomed. In his hands, he held a polished silver keepsake box.
He opened the lid. Resting inside on black velvet was Mila’s severed braid, preserved beside a vintage gold signet ring bearing the Ferrante crest.
"What will you name him, Sienna?" Nico asked softly, his baritone warm and full of pride.
Sienna looked up at her father, tears of gratitude shining in her eyes. "Leo. Leo Ferrante. He carries your father's name, Dad. He will never carry the name Cole."
Nico smiled—a rare, genuine expression that transformed his handsome features. "A good name. A strong name."
Mila leaned over, looking at the silver box. "Grandpa, is my hair safe now?"
Nico reached out, gently cupping the little girl's chin. "Everything that belongs to you is safe, little bird. Forever."
The suite door opened with a quiet click, and Cassian stepped into the room. He carried a sealed, tamper-evident leather dispatch folder.
Nico stood up, walking silently toward the threshold so as not to disturb the mother and child. He stepped out into the sunlit marble hallway.
"Is it done?" Nico asked.
"Marcus Cole is at the bottom of the bay," Cassian reported quietly. "Gavin, Sabrina, and Marjorie have been signed into the federal witness protection holding cells under an anonymous treason filing. They will spend the rest of their lives in solitary confinement at ADX Florence. They don't exist anymore."
"Good," Nico nodded.
"There is one complication, Boss," Cassian added, handing the dispatch folder to Nico. "We decrypted Marcus Cole’s private satellite phone before we disposed of it. The Morello alliance wasn't limited to New York."
Nico’s brow furrowed slightly as he broke the wax seal on the folder. "Explain."
"The hit on the estate wasn't Marcus's idea," Cassian whispered, his voice tense. "He was taking orders from Chicago. The Valenti family and the Morellos have formed a national syndicate coalition. They’ve already moved sixty soldiers across the state border into Philadelphia. They know the baby was born, Nico. And they know you’re the only thing standing between them and the entire eastern seaboard."
Nico pulled the single sheet of decrypted intelligence from the folder. At the bottom of the page, stamped in red ink, was a surveillance photograph of his estate taken from a high-altitude drone just thirty minutes ago.
Nico stared at the photograph for a long, silent moment.
The battle for his estate was over, but the war for the American underworld had only just begun. The bloodline was secure, the traitors were purged, but the wolves were gathering at the borders of his empire.
May you like
Nico folded the paper, slipped it into his inner breast pocket right next to his heart, and looked down the long, sunlit corridor toward the future.
"Call the capos from Boston, Atlantic City, and Miami," Nico commanded, his voice cold, steady, and carrying the promise of total annihilation. "Tell them to bring their rifles. We are going to war."
