Her Billionaire Ex Left Their Sick Daughter For His Mistress, But New York’s Deadliest Mafia Don Claimed Them Both

The afternoon of the annual Apex Charity Gala was radiant and crisp. The grand event was being hosted at a historic museum in Midtown Manhattan, celebrating Sloan’s triumph and raising millions for children’s healthcare.

Sloan was in the bridal suite of the venue, adjusting the hem of her stunning emerald-green silk gown. In the adjoining dressing room, Ara was twirling in a matching green dress, giggling with her nanny.

Dante entered the suite, dressed in a flawless black tuxedo. He looked breathtakingly handsome, the dark power of his presence softened only by the way his eyes lit up when he saw Sloan.

""You look magnificent, Sloan,"" Dante said, stepping behind her and meeting her reflection in the mirror. He reached into his pocket and produced a velvet box. Inside lay a breathtaking necklace of rare black diamonds and emeralds, matching her dress perfectly.

""Dante, this is too much..."" she breathed.

""Nothing is too much for you,"" he whispered, lifting the heavy jewels and fastening them around her slender neck. His fingers brushed against her warm skin, sending a shiver of electricity racing down her spine. When his hands lingered on her bare shoulders, Sloan turned in his arms, her heart pounding.

They were inches apart, his dark eyes searching hers with raw longing, when the suite door was kicked open.

One of Dante’s primary lieutenants stumbled into the room, holding his bleeding shoulder.

""Boss! We have a breach! The freight elevator was compromised!""

Panic exploded in Sloan's chest. ""Ara!""

She bolted into the adjoining room.

The nanny lay unconscious on the floor. The heavy steel window leading to the fire escape was smashed open.

Ara was gone.

On the floor, lying in a pool of shattered glass, was Ara’s little plastic wand, snapped completely in half.

Sloan fell to her knees, a scream of pure agony tearing from her throat. ""No! No, God, please no! Ara!""

Dante dropped beside her, lifting her by her shoulders. His face was no longer that of a civilized billionaire. It was the face of the devil himself. The cold, calculating terror of the Moretti mafia king was unleashed in full fury.

""Look at me, Sloan,"" Dante commanded, his voice vibrating with absolute authority. ""Look at me!""

Sloan looked up, tears streaming down her face, her body trembling with terror.

""I will tear this city apart with my bare hands,"" Dante vowed, his voice deadly and low. ""I will burn every bridge, every dock, and every rat hole in New York. I will bring our daughter home. Do you hear me? I will bring her home.""

His phone buzzed.

Dante answered it and put it on speaker.

""Dante,"" Vance’s mocking voice drifted through the line. ""Looking for your little princess? If you want to see her alive, come alone to the abandoned warehouse at Pier 42. Bring the decryption keys to the Apex treasury. If I see a single cop, the girl goes into the Hudson River in a concrete box.""

The line went dead.