Part 2: His fiancée told the pregnant daughter that the mafia boss was ashamed of her, completely unaware that he had already hidden a baby crib in his mansion a month earlier.

The Syndicate Council convened at three in the morning in the windowless boardroom of the Grand Cathedral’s subterranean crypt—the traditional neutral ground where the city’s five ruling mafia bosses met to settle disputes of life and death.

Antonio Bellini sat at the head of the heavy marble table, flanked by four of his surviving lieutenants. His face was grim, his suit pristine, but his hands betrayed a slight tremor as he checked his gold pocket watch.

The heavy iron doors groaned as they were thrown open.

Luca Moretti walked in.

He was not alone. Behind him marched twelve heavily armed enforcers, their assault rifles slung low and ready. And beside Luca walked Emily, dressed in a black wool coat, her head held high despite the shadows beneath her eyes.

"Moretti," Antonio said, attempting to maintain an air of dignified authority. "You bring weapons into the sacred chamber? And your daughter? This is a meeting of bosses."

"My daughter is the rightful heir to the Moretti syndicate," Luca said, slamming the three blue binders onto the center of the marble table. The heavy thump echoed off the vaulted ceiling. "And you, Antonio, are no longer a boss. You are a dead man walking."

The other council members leaned forward, their eyes widening as Luca threw down Vanessa’s signed confession alongside the forensic autopsy reports of Elena Moretti.

"For seven years, the Bellini family has poisoned my household, stolen syndicate revenue, and attempted to assassinate my pregnant daughter," Luca declared, his voice ringing like a bronze bell. "I invoke the ancient blood right of total eradication."

The three neutral council bosses quickly skimmed the documents. The oldest among them, Boss Falcone, looked up at Antonio with pure disgust. "You poisoned a mother? You attacked an unborn child? This breaks every law our grandfathers wrote."

"It's a lie! Fabrications!" Antonio shouted, jumping to his feet and reaching for his sidearm.

Before Antonio’s hand could clear his holster, Marco stepped from the shadows. A single suppressed shot echoed through the chamber. Antonio froze, gasped, and collapsed backward into his leather high-back chair, a neat red hole drilled between his eyes.

His four lieutenants instantly dropped their weapons to the floor and raised their hands in total surrender.