The high-security subterranean floor of the Moretti estate in Greenwich did not exist on town blueprints.

Two weeks passed.

The incident with Valenti had sent shockwaves through the New York underworld. Word had spread that Don Adrian Moretti had crippled a rival boss not with an army, but with surgical financial precision and personal, terrifying force.

However, peace in the mafia world is always temporary.

The Commission—the governing council of the five major Italian-American syndicate families in New York—demanded an emergency summit at a neutral estate in Long Island. They were alarmed by the sudden collapse of the Valenti family and feared Adrian was preparing to consolidate total control over the entire East Coast logistics network.

On the morning of the summit, Adrian stood in front of his bedroom mirror, adjusting his black silk tie.

A quiet tap sounded at the door frame.

Elena stepped into the room, holding a freshly pressed linen pocket square. She looked beautiful—wearing a simple burgundy dress that Adrian had gifted her, her dark hair styled neatly back.

"You look ready for war," Elena said softly, stepping closer to adjust his collar.

"It's not a war," Adrian replied, enjoying the warmth of her hands against his chest. "It's a negotiation with five old men who are terrified of losing their influence."

Elena placed the pocket square into his jacket pocket, smoothing the fabric with her fingers. "Be careful, Adrian. Mia made a drawing for you this morning. She said if you get grumpy at the meeting, you have to look at it."

Elena pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to him.

Adrian unfolded it. It was a crude crayon drawing of three figures holding hands under a oversized yellow sun—a large man in a black suit, a woman in a red dress, and a little girl in yellow boots.

Adrian stared at the crude drawing for a long time. A soft, genuine smile—the first real smile his face had seen in over twenty years—spread across his handsome features.

"I will keep it in my coat," Adrian said, folding it carefully and placing it directly over his heart in his interior pocket.

He looked down at Elena, his dark eyes burning with an affection so pure it made her breath catch. He reached out, his hand gently cupping her cheek, his thumb tracing her cheekbone.