The Maid Removed a Hidden Ring From Her Glove—Then I Saw My Family Crest and My Sister-in-Law Went Pale.

Victor Valenti turned his head, his eyes widening as he saw Dominic standing on the porch, surrounded by smoke and fire, looking like an invincible god of war.

"Kill him!" Victor screamed, pointing his rifle directly at Dominic.

A hail of bullets tore through the stone pillars around Dominic, sending chunks of concrete flying into the air. Dominic dropped behind a heavy stone pedestal, reloading his weapon with lightning speed, and popped up to fire four precise shots into the tires and engine block of Victor's primary armored SUV!

The vehicle's fuel tank exploded into a massive fireball, knocking Victor and three of his mercenaries off their feet into the wet gravel!

Dominic charged down the marble steps into the courtyard, his boots spraying gravel as he closed the distance with terrifying speed. He eliminated the remaining two mercenaries with short, controlled bursts, kicking their weapons away into the mud.

Victor scrambled to his knees, bleeding from a cut on his forehead, his assault rifle lost in the dirt. He reached into his coat for a sidearm, but before his fingers could touch the grip, Dominic’s heavy boot slammed down onto Victor's wrist with crushing force!

Victor screamed in pain as his hand buckled.

Dominic reached down, grabbed Victor by his tactical collar, and lifted the broad mobster off the ground with one arm, slamming him against the burning frame of the destroyed SUV.

"Thirty years ago, you burned my brother's house," Dominic whispered, his deep voice trembling with decades of suppressed fury. "You drove his wife into hiding. And today, you tried to murder his daughter."

"Dominic... wait... please..." Victor choked out, his face turning dark purple as Dominic’s grip tightened around his throat. "We can make a deal... half of New York... whatever you want..."

"I don't want your money, Victor," Dominic said softly, his dark eyes devoid of any warmth or mercy. "I want peace for my family."

Dominic struck out with one short, devastating right hook, knocking Victor unconscious instantly. He dropped the mobster onto the wet gravel as sirens echoed in the distance—the police finally arriving at the outer gates.

Dominic adjusted his black tuxedo jacket, wiped a smudge of soot from his cheek, and turned back toward the mansion.

Standing on the front steps, framed by the morning sunlight breaking through the smoke, was Elena. She had refused to stay in the bunker, standing tall against the wind, watching her uncle destroy the enemies who had hunted her mother for thirty years.