"CAN WE ADOPT THEM?" THE MAFIA BOSS'S DAUGHTER BEGGED — HE LOOKED OVER AND FROZE IN TERROR!

A mafia boss is only as powerful as the loyalty of the men he commands. Enzo had thought his betrayal would shatter my empire, but he had underestimated the bond I shared with my capos. While Enzo was motivated by corporate greed, the rest of my family was bound by blood, history, and the sacred oath of protection.

Using the safe house’s encrypted radio transmitter, I broadcasted a red-tier mobilization signal to the five district commanders of the Moretti syndicate. Within two hours, five black SUVs pulled into the abandoned warehouse above the bunker.

Heavy bootsteps echoed down the concrete stairs. Dante, my cousin and head of dock operations, stepped through the vault door, accompanied by twenty heavily armed soldiers in tactical armor. When Dante saw Lily sleeping on the couch, his fierce, scarred face softened, then instantly hardened into stone.

"Luca," Dante said, embracing me with a fierce clap on the shoulder. "The word on the street is wild. Enzo’s crew took over the main villa, claiming you were dead or compromised by federal agents."

"Enzo is tied to a boiler pipe in my basement, bleeding through his teeth," I said coldly. "He sold us out to an entity called Prometheus Vanguard. They came to execute a child."

Dante looked over at Theo, who was sitting quietly on his stool, observing the room of hardened killers without an ounce of fear. "That's the kid?"

"His name is Theo," I said. "And as of this morning, he wears the Moretti name. Whoever hunts him, hunts us."

Dante smiled—a terrifying, wolfish grin that bared his gold tooth. "Say no more, Boss. What’s the play? We storm the villa and take Enzo’s head?"

"No," Theo's voice cut through the room, clear and precise.

Every hardened gangster in the room turned in surprise to look at the tiny boy in yellow pajamas.

Theo stood up, walked over to the tactical whiteboard, and picked up a black marker. Reaching as high as his small arms could stretch, he began sketching a detailed topographical map of upstate New York.

"The villa is a trap," Theo explained calmly. "Dr. Vance anticipated you would attempt a counter-assault on your home. He placed an automated claymore perimeter and three sniper teams on the ridge. If you go back there, you will lose seventy-six percent of your men within four minutes."

Dante stared in absolute disbelief. "Is this kid for real?"

"He's smarter than every general in the Pentagon, Dante," I said. "Listen to him."

Theo continued drawing with rapid, unwavering strokes. "Prometheus Vanguard operates a private server facility at their Black Site in the Catskill Mountains. All their operational communications, private banking keys, and surveillance files are routed through an underground server node. At 8:00 p.m. tonight, Dr. Vance is scheduled to conduct a live demonstration for foreign defense contractors."

"A demonstration of what?" Dante asked, leaning in.

"Of E08 and E09," Theo replied, his voice cracking slightly with grief. "Twin girls. They are five years old. Vance is preparing to sell them to a syndicate in Macau."

A heavy, suffocating silence descended upon the bunker. Every man in that room was a criminal, a racketeer, an extortionist. But they had families, daughters, nieces. The code of Cosa Nostra had many sins, but harming or trafficking children was an abomination punishable by immediate execution.

Dante spat on the concrete floor. "Macau? God help me, Luca. Give the order."