I walked into one of Manhattan’s most expensive restaurants with a hungry baby strapped to my chest and asked a stranger if we could eat whatever he left behind. I had no idea the irritated man staring back at me was an mafia boss—or that my quiet request was about to expose just how desperate life had become.

By the third day at the Moretti estate, Eli was thriving. He was chubby-cheeked again, sleeping in a beautiful carved cradle beside my bed. Grandma Rose was receiving daily visits from top cardiologists.

Yet, outside the quiet sanctuary of the estate, a storm was brewing.

In the dimly lit basement of a warehouse near the Brooklyn docks, Vincent stood before a man tied to a chair. It was the scammer who had targeted Rose Carter—a low-level street criminal named Marcus.

"I didn't know she was connected to you, Boss!" Marcus wept, his face bruised and swollen. "It was just a quick job! I target old people at ATMs!"

"That is precisely your crime," Vincent said, his voice smooth as ice. He leaned in close. "You prey on the defenseless. But what interests me more is who gave you that skimming device. A petty thief doesn't have access to military-grade card cloners."

Marcus stammered, terrified. "It was... it was the Vane Syndicate! They paid us to flood the lower districts with scammed devices to stir up chaos!"

Vincent’s eyes narrowed. The Vane Syndicate was a rival organization attempting to push into Moretti territory. They were ruthless, reckless, and now, they had unwittingly touched something Vincent considered his own.

Vincent turned to his lieutenant, Dante. "Return Mrs. Carter’s money tenfold. As for Marcus... make sure he spends the next decade in state prison."