He Dumped Her for Being Too Big, Until She Became the Mafia Don’s Wife and His Biggest Regret...

"You can't do this!" Chloe screamed, stepping forward from behind Dominic, her voice shrill and desperate. "Clara, you're being insane! You married a murderer just to spite us!"

Lorenzo didn't even turn his head toward Chloe. He simply snapped his fingers once.

A lieutenant stepped forward, grabbed Chloe by her elbow, and dragged her three feet back, forcing her into a chair.

"Speak again in my wife's presence without permission," Lorenzo warned quietly, his amber eyes locking onto Chloe, "and you will spend the afternoon swimming in the Chicago River."

Chloe clamped her mouth shut, her face white with terror, tears of embarrassment spilling down her cheeks.

Arthur Blake sank back into his chair, his hands shaking as he looked at the legal documents Lorenzo’s lawyer had laid on the table. "Clara... please. I'm your uncle. I raised you after your father died!"

"You tried to sell my father's legacy to a boy who called me an eyesore," Clara replied coldly, taking her seat at the head of the table while Lorenzo stood behind her, his hand resting protectively on her chair. "You're lucky I'm letting you keep your pension, Arthur. Pack your desk by noon."

Dominic backed away toward the windows, his jaw clenching as anger replaced his initial shock.

"This isn't over, Clara!" Dominic spat, pointing a finger at her. "My father controls the truck drivers' union! You might have the land, but without our trucks, your ships will rot at the docks! You’ll be ruined in a month!"

Lorenzo let out a soft, dark laugh that made the remaining board members flinch.

He walked slowly toward Dominic, stopping inches away from his face. Lorenzo was half a head taller than Dominic, his broad frame casting a dark shadow over the younger man.

"Your father's truck union?" Lorenzo asked smoothly. "You mean the union whose chief director signed a ten-year exclusive contract with the Valenti family at eight o'clock this morning?"

Dominic’s mouth fell open. "What?"

"Your father has no union, Dominic," Lorenzo murmured, slapping Dominic’s cheek gently with two fingers—a gesture of supreme disrespect in the underworld. "He has no trucks. He has no shipping routes. And if I see you within two miles of my wife again... he won't have a son either."