My Mafia Boss Husband Chose His Mistress While I Was in Labor, but He Came Home to Discover His Empire Was Never Really His

Panic exploded in the boardroom.

Capos began screaming at each other, cursing in Italian, kicking back their chairs and pointing fingers at Dante.

"YOU TRAITOR!" Jimmy roared, drawing his snub-nosed revolver and pointing it straight at Dante’s face. "YOU SOLD THE FAMILY TO YOUR WIFE!"

CLICK-CLACK.

The two federal marshals instantly unholstered their Glock 19s, pointing them directly at Jimmy’s head.

"Drop the weapon!" the lead marshal barked. "Drop it now!"

Salvatore grabbed Jimmy’s arm, forcing his gun down onto the table. "Shut up, Jimmy! Drop it!"

Dante didn't move. He stood at the head of the table, looking at Nora, his hands trembling violently at his sides.

"Nora..." Dante whispered, his chest heaving. "Please... leave me something. My father built this company..."

"Your father built a loan-sharking operation in a Red Hook basement, Dante," Nora replied, her tone unyielding. "Serena’s father turned it into a multi-billion-dollar empire. And now, Serena is taking it back."

Nora pulled a second set of folders from her briefcase and dropped them onto the table in front of each capo.

"Here are the conditions of Vale International’s takeover," Nora said, addressing the room. "Mrs. Vale is not interested in destroying the livelihood of the working men in Brooklyn and Queens. The longshoremen will be paid today. The union pension funds will be fully restored by 1:00 p.m. The legitimate shipping operations will continue under new professional management."

The capos blinked, looking down at the folders.

"And us?" Salvatore asked cautiously, his survival instincts kicking in. "What about the capos?"

"You will receive your standard operational cuts, managed through a new, transparent corporate board," Nora explained. "Provided you follow three simple rules."

"What rules?" Jimmy asked suspiciously.

"Rule one: You swear total, absolute allegiance to the Vale Trust," Nora stated. "Rule two: You never engage in human trafficking or narcotics within the city limits. Rule three..."

Nora paused, looking directly at Dante.

"...you strip Dante Romano of all family authority, instantly and permanently."

Silence descended upon the room like a heavy shroud.

Dante looked around the table at the men he had called his brothers, his uncles, his lieutenants.

"Sal..." Dante stammered, his eyes wide with desperate terror. "Sal, look at me! I’m your nephew! My father was your brother!"

Uncle Salvatore looked at Dante. There was no warmth in the old man's eyes—only the cold, pragmatic math of a mafia veteran who knew when a boss was dead.

Salvatore slowly reached down, picked up his folder, and closed it.

He looked at Nora.

"Where do we sign?" Salvatore asked softly.

"NO!" Dante screamed, lunging across the table toward his uncle. "YOU CAN'T DO THIS! MARCO! HELP ME!"

Marco stepped back, pulling his hands away from his brother, dropping his gaze to the floor in total shame.

"It’s over, Dante," Marco whispered. "You killed us."

Two security guards stepped into the boardroom, grabbing Dante by his arms and pulling him back from the table.

Nora stepped up to Dante, looking down at him as he struggled helplessly against the guards' grip.

"Your personal accounts have been liquidated to satisfy outstanding debt guarantees, Dante," Nora said calmly. "Your penthouse on Park Avenue was foreclosed on an hour ago. Your sports cars, your watch collection, your credit lines... gone."

She reached out, gently pulling the gold Rolex Submariner off Dante’s wrist and placing it into an evidence bag held by a marshal.

"You are officially broke, Dante," Nora whispered into his ear. "You have no home. You have no family. You have no empire. You are exactly what you were before Serena married you—a small-time thug with big ambitions."