748 The Mafia Heir and the Four Little Miracles: How a Billionaire Syndicate Boss Discovered His Stolen Family and Defeated an Empire of Lies

I didn't answer my mother immediately. I let the silence stretch across the phone line until I heard her sharp intake of breath.

"Listen to me very carefully, Mother," I said softly, every word carved from pure granite. "If you or any of your lawyers ever come within five miles of my Tribeca apartment again, I will stop pretending I need your blessing to run this family."

"Dominic, have you lost your mind?" Elena hissed, her composed matriarch facade instantly cracking. "You are throwing away an empire for some stray cat—"

"They aren't stray cats," I interrupted, my voice rising just enough to vibrate through the phone. "They are your grandsons. All four of them."

A dead, heavy silence dropped on the other end of the line.

"What... what did you say?" she whispered.

"You heard me," I said, and ended the call, powering off the phone entirely before she could spew another toxic lie.

I turned back to Mara. She was leaning against the back of the velvet armchair, her hands over her mouth, tears streaming freely down her cheeks as the full weight of the revelation settled over her.

"She knew?" Mara choked out. "Your mother... she knew I was pregnant?"

"She knew everything," I said, my jaw clenching so hard my teeth ached. "She set up the courier, she staged the disappearance, and she built a wall of lies between us so thick neither of us could see over it."

Before Mara could answer, a soft rustle came from the sectional.

Milo, the tallest of the quadruplets, rubbed his sleepy eyes with the back of his small hand and sat up. He blinked against the warm light of the media room, looked up, and spotted me standing next to his mother.

"Hey," Milo mumbled sleepily, his voice a miniature carbon copy of mine. "Are we still at the tall building?"

Mara rushed over to the sofa, dropping to her knees and pulling Milo into her arms, burying her face in his messy dark hair. "We’re okay, baby. We’re safe."

Max and Mason stirred next, stretching out their arms, while Micah rolled over with a soft yawn. Four sets of gray-blue eyes blinked up at the ceiling, completely unaware that the tectonic plates of their lives had just shifted.

I walked over to the sectional, crouching down until I was at eye level with Milo.

"Milo," I said quietly.

The boy turned his head, tilting it back just a fraction—touching the back of his neck with his small hand, exactly the way I was doing at that very second.

"Yeah?"

"How would you boys like to never have to sleep in a storage room or a cheap motel ever again?"

Milo looked from me to his mother, his young eyes sharp and remarkably intelligent. "Does it have a kitchen with cereal?"