The Mob Boss Came Home With a Ring — a Crying Little Girl Begged Him to Save Her Mother From His Own Fiancée

The tender moment was violently interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps echoing down the concrete corridor. Lorenzo wasn't running away. He was regrouping.

"Stay in here with Mia," Alessandro commanded, pulling away from Chiara and picking up the discarded shotgun. He handed it back to her, wrapping her small, trembling fingers around the heavy grip. "Lock the secondary deadbolt if I don't come back in five minutes."

"Alessandro, no," Chiara pleaded, grabbing his arm. "Don't go back out there. Let them leave."

"They will never leave us in peace, Chiara," Alessandro said softly, his dark eyes filled with a sad, violent truth. "This ends tonight. Keep our daughter safe."

He didn't wait for her to process the word our. He turned and stepped back out into the smoking, bullet-riddled hallway, raising his assault rifle.

Lorenzo Falcone stepped out from around the corner, his handgun raised. The two mafia bosses stood twenty feet apart in the dim, flickering light of the subterranean corridor, surrounded by the bodies of their fallen men.

"It's over, Lorenzo," Alessandro said coldly. "Your men are dead. Your syndicate is bankrupt. You have nothing left."

"I have the element of surprise," Lorenzo sneered, a wicked, desperate grin spreading across his scarred face.

Suddenly, a massive, deafening explosion rocked the floor above them. The entire ceiling of the basement groaned under the immense concussive force, raining plaster and dust down on them. Lorenzo's men had detonated a secondary explosive in the main foyer, bringing a section of the mansion collapsing downward.

The shockwave knocked Alessandro off his feet. He crashed hard into the concrete wall, his assault rifle clattering away into the darkness.

Lorenzo laughed, advancing slowly toward the stunned, disoriented mafia boss. He aimed his handgun directly at Alessandro's chest.

"You always were too sentimental, Alessandro," Lorenzo gloated, preparing to pull the trigger. "You died for a maid."

Before Lorenzo could fire, a figure lunged out of the shadows behind him.

It was Serena. But she didn't have a gun. She had picked up a jagged, heavy piece of shrapnel from the blown-out safe room door.

She didn't attack Alessandro.

With a scream of pure, unadulterated madness, Serena drove the jagged metal violently into the back of Lorenzo's neck.

"You promised me an empire!" Serena shrieked hysterically as Lorenzo dropped his gun, grasping wildly at the metal protruding from his neck, blood pouring down his tactical vest. "You promised me I would be a queen! You ruined my life!"

Lorenzo collapsed to his knees, choking on his own blood, betrayed by the very viper he had planted in his enemy's bed. He fell forward onto the cold concrete, dead before he could even process his wife's treachery.

Serena stood over her dead husband, breathing heavily, covered in his blood. She looked up, her wild, manic eyes locking onto Alessandro, who was slowly pushing himself up from the floor.