The Mafia Boss Secretly Returned Before Dawn to Test His Fiancée, Then Heard Her Threaten His Widowed Sister and Steal From His Dead Mother’s Trust…

The darkness lasted only three seconds before the emergency generator hummed to life, bathing the dining hall in a stark, amber glow.

Brooke stepped back, reaching into her designer handbag for her burner phone. "Julian," she whispered rapidly into the receiver as soon as the line connected. "He's here. Dominic is at the estate."

"I know," Julian Harrington's voice crackled through the speaker, distorted by static. "We saw his jet’s tail number register on the private radar an hour ago. It doesn't matter, Brooke. We have thirty men stationed at the north gate. The port authority paperwork cleared ten minutes ago. We own the deep-water dock."

"Get over here now," Brooke hissed. "Take the trust ledgers from Catherine's safe before he locks down the vault."

"Already moving," Julian replied.

Brooke hung up and faced Dominic. "You're too late. The Harrington family isn't some street gang you can intimidate in a dark room. We have political backing in Boston and three federal judges on our payroll."

Dominic didn't look worried. He walked over to Natalie, placed a hand gently on his sister’s shoulder, and whispered, "Take Noah down to the panic room beneath the wine cellar. Emma is waiting for you."

Natalie looked at her brother, her eyes filled with fear. "Dominic, please be careful. Julian is reckless. He’s in deep with the Albanian syndicate out of South Boston."

"I know who Julian answers to," Dominic said softly. "Go."

Natalie didn't hesitate. She hurried out through the service exit, locking the steel-reinforced door behind her.

Dominic pulled out a silver cigarette case, clicked it open, and lit a thin cigar. He sat in the high-backed chair at the head of the table and blew a thin ribbon of smoke toward the ceiling.

"You really thought Catherine left that safe unprotected?" Dominic asked, his gaze settling on Brooke.

Brooke felt a tremor of doubt. "I opened it myself. I took the ledger."

"You took a decoy ledger placed there three weeks ago when my financial auditors noticed fifty thousand dollars missing from the household expense account," Dominic said. "Every page you photocopied, every deed Vance stamped, had a micro-tracer embedded in the watermark. When Julian uploaded those files to the commerce registry this morning, he didn't secure a port lease. He uploaded a full confession of corporate extortion, wire fraud, and cross-border money laundering."

Brooke’s face went dead white. "You're lying."

"Your brother owes forty million dollars to Besnik Qorri," Dominic continued smoothly. "He promised Qorri access to my eastern shipping lanes to move illicit cargo through Boston Harbor. You thought marrying me would wipe Julian's slate clean and make you the queen of Mercer Atlantic."

Dominic tapped the ash from his cigar onto the table.

"You brought wolves to my doorstep, Brooke. But you forgot whose territory this is."

Outside, the screech of heavy tires on gravel echoed through the storm. Multiple black SUVs had just breached the perimeter gates, their headlights sweeping across the mansion’s tall limestone facade.

Brooke let out a sharp, hysterical laugh. "That sounds like Julian and his friends now. Let's see your auditors stop forty armed men."

Dominic didn't flinch. He picked up his radio from the table and pressed the channel button.