I WAS SEVEN MONTHS PREGNANT WHEN A BILLIONAIRE HEIRESS SLAPPED ME IN FRONT OF CHICAGO’S MOST FEARED MAFIA BOSS—THEN HE SAID MY REAL NAME AND MADE ONE PHONE CALL THAT ENDED HER FAMILY’S EMPIRE

While peace returned to the Lake Forest estate, three hundred miles away in a high-security private holding facility in New Jersey, Arthur Castille sat in a dark room.

Matthew’s uncle was sixty years old, wearing a grey jumpsuit, his face thin and bitter as he stared at a heavy iron door.

The door clicked open.

A tall man in a dark trench coat stepped inside, carrying a black briefcase.

It was Victor Vance—the leader of the Genovese crime family in New York, Arthur's primary co-conspirator.

"Victor," Arthur rasped out, standing up from his metal chair. "Did you bring the bail documents?"

Victor set his briefcase on the table, looking at Arthur with cold, unyielding contempt. "There is no bail, Arthur. Matthew has locked down every judge in Illinois and New Jersey. You're going to federal prison for twenty years."

Arthur slammed his fist onto the table. "He ruined us! He took back his wife, he destroyed the Kensingtons, and now he’s securing his bloodline!"

"I know," Victor said smoothly, pulling a small encrypted phone from his coat pocket. "Which is why my family is taking matters into our own hands."

Arthur frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Matthew Castille thinks he’s invincible because he controls Chicago," Victor sneered, a dark, lethal smile spreading across his face. "But he made a mistake. He brought his pregnant wife back to his main estate. And in two weeks, when she goes into labor at the private clinic... we strike."