1.Her Billionaire Boss Husband Took Their Newborn’s Suitcase and Flew Away With His Pregnant Mistress Until a Private Crew Opened the Jet He Never Knew Belonged to Her

"My... my babies?" Dominic murmured, his voice laced with an emotion his men had never heard from him in thirty-six years.

Before Layla could reply, the diner’s front glass windows exploded inward in a hail of deafening gunfire.

RAT-AT-AT-AT-AT!

"DOWN!" Dominic roared.

In a fraction of a second, Dominic reached over the counter, grabbed Layla by her shoulders, and dragged her entirely over the formica top, pulling her body beneath his massive frame as he slammed onto the floor behind the steel kitchen partition.

Glass rained down like falling diamond dust. The neon sign shattered, plunging the diner into violent darkness illuminated only by the rhythmic flashes of automatic muzzle fire outside.

Truckers screamed, diving beneath tables as Dominic’s four bodyguards returned fire, their heavy handguns booming in the enclosed space.

Layla was pinned beneath Dominic, his heavy cashmere coat shielding her from flying shrapnel. He held her head tucked firmly against his chest, his arms forming an impenetrable cage around her swollen abdomen.

"Are you hurt?" Dominic growled into her hair, his breath hot against her ear. "Layla! Did any glass hit you?!"

"No! No, I'm okay!" she sobbed, holding onto his lapels in sheer terror. "Dominic, what's happening?!"

"Ambush!" Marcus Vance yelled from behind a booth, emptying his magazine through the broken window. "It’s the Moretti crew! They tracked our car from the docks!"

Dominic’s gray eyes turned into liquid fire. He reached inside his coat, pulled a sleek black Sig Sauer pistol from his shoulder holster, and racked the slide with a cold, practiced motion.

"They didn't track us, Marcus," Dominic said coldly, his voice cutting through the gunfire. "No one tracks my armored vehicle without an insider giving them the GPS ping."

He looked down at Layla. Her face was buried in his chest, her small hands clutching his suit jacket as if he were her only lifeline in the world. Despite the terror surrounding them, she felt the steady, powerful rhythm of his heart beating against her cheek.

"Listen to me, Layla," Dominic commanded softly, his hand gently cupping her neck. "I am going to get you out of here. You and my children. Do you hear me?"

"Dominic... I'm scared," she whispered.

"Don't be," he said, his amber eyes locking onto hers with absolute authority. "No one touches what belongs to me."

Dominic peeked over the steel counter, fired three precise shots through the storm outside, and yelled to his lead guard, "Vance! Cover the back alley! We're taking the secondary SUV!"

"Yes, Boss!"

Dominic scooped Layla up into his arms. Despite her heavy weight, he lifted her effortlessly, cradling her against his chest as if she weighed nothing at all. He kept his body angled to shield her from any stray bullets as he kicked open the rear kitchen door and sprinted into the freezing rain of the back alley.

A dark gray armored Suburban pulled up to the alley entrance, its doors flying open.

Dominic shoved Layla safely into the plush leather rear seat, sliding in right behind her and slamming the heavy, bulletproof door shut.

"Drive!" Dominic roared to the chauffeur. "To the estate! Call Dr. Harrison and tell him to have the medical bay ready immediately!"

As the Suburban tore through the icy Chicago streets, its tires screaming against the asphalt, Layla slumped against the leather seat, hyperventilating. She pulled her wet hair back, her body shaking uncontrollably from cold and adrenaline.

Dominic turned to her, his gun still in his hand. He reached out with his free arm, pulling her body against his side.

"You're safe now," he said quietly, his voice carrying an intense, possessive warmth she had never heard before.

"I'm not your property, Dominic," Layla wept, trying to push his chest away. "You fired me! You left me to starve in the rain! You can't just take me!"

Dominic grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. His eyes were dark with a mixture of deep remorse and unyielding possessiveness.

"I made a mistake, Layla," he admitted, the words tasting like poison in his mouth. "I didn't know it was you that night. I didn't know you were carrying my blood. But you are mine now. And no one in this city will ever touch you again."

In the front passenger seat, Marcus Vance quietly tapped a hidden message into his encrypted phone, his fingers trembling as he sent a text to his sister, Julianna:

Dominic knows. The maid is alive. She is pregnant with twins. He is bringing her to the estate now.