My Mafia Boss husband abandoned me while I was giving birth because his mistress was delivering his son one floor away.

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Chapter 16

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I dropped the phone onto the leather seat of the cab, my heart hammering against my ribs as the taxi accelerated into the dark, rain-soaked streets of Chicago.

Chapter 1: My Mafia Boss husband abandoned me while I was giving birth because his mistress was delivering his son one floor away. L009
The rain pounded relentlessly against the glass windows of our hotel suite in downtown Chicago. Emily was fast asleep in the adjoining bedroom, worn out from the emotional chaos of the award ceremony. I sat on the edge of the velvet sofa, the glow of my phone screen illuminating the dark room as I stared at the encrypted document again and again.

The intelligence report was meticulous, containing DNA sequence charts, private medical lab receipts from seven years ago, and timestamped surveillance photographs.

Lucas was not Vincent Moretti’s son.

The biological father was Julian Rossi—Vincent’s underboss, his most trusted lieutenant, and the man who managed the syndicate’s primary financial operations across the Midwest.

Julian had been playing the long game. By placing his biological child at the center of the Moretti empire through Sophia, he had secured a direct claim to the syndicate's billions once Vincent was eliminated. And according to the attached operational timeline, Julian’s move to strike down Vincent was scheduled for the end of the week during the annual Syndicate Leadership Summit.

My hands shook as I closed the document. I hated Vincent for what he had done to me, but the thought of Emily’s biological father being murdered in a bloody mob coup—and the violent ripple effect that would surely follow—sent a chill of absolute terror down my spine. If Julian took over the syndicate, he would hunt down any potential rivals to Lucas’s legitimacy.

That meant Emily.

Suddenly, a quiet knock sounded at the suite's heavy oak entrance door.

I instantly slid a small silver pocket knife—a habit acquired from years of staying cautious—into the sleeve of my cardigan. I stepped softly across the carpet and looked through the peephole.

Standing in the dimly lit hallway was Madison Parker. She was wearing a rain-splattered trench coat, holding a leather briefcase, her expression grave.

I unlocked the door and pulled her inside, closing and locking it quickly behind her.

"Madison," I whispered, relief washing over me as I threw my arms around my best friend. "How did you find us here?"

"I booked the room for you under one of my firm's corporate shell accounts three hours ago, remember?" Madison said with a tired, affectionate smile, kicking off her wet heels. She looked around the dark suite before fixing her sharp eyes on me. **"We have a major problem, Claire."**

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