She Begged the Mafia Don Not to Hurt Her Baby, but What He Did Next Left His Own Men Speechless

Spring arrived in Chicago, bringing warm breezes, green shoots along the lakefront, and a complete transformation of Moretti Manor.

The scarred limestone from the winter battle had been fully restored, but more importantly, the inside of the house was filled with warmth, sound, and laughter.

Leo was now fourteen months old, taking his first wobbly steps across the hardwood floors of the grand hallway. His favorite place in the entire house wasn't the playroom or the gardens—it was Gabriel’s private office.

Every afternoon at 3:00 PM, regardless of what high-level syndicate meetings were taking place, Gabriel’s doors opened.

Dante would watch in amused disbelief as the terrifying Don of Chicago sat on his plush Persian rug, surrounded by legal documents, building wooden block towers with a giggling toddler.

"Boss," Dante said one afternoon, leaning against the doorframe with a stack of shipping invoices. "The syndicate bosses in New York are asking for a conference call regarding the Great Lakes trade routes."

"Tell them to wait twenty minutes," Gabriel said without looking up, carefully placing a blue block on top of Leo's tower. "Leo is building a bridge."

Dante snorted softly, shaking his head. "If my father could see you now, Gabriel..."

"Your father was a miserable old man who died alone in a mansion," Gabriel replied dryly, a small smile touching his lips. "I prefer this."

Norah walked into the office carrying a tray of iced tea. She wore a simple floral sun dress that hugged her gorgeous, soft curves, her dark hair pinned back casually.

Gabriel stood up, walking over to her instantly, taking the tray from her hands and setting it on the desk before pulling her into his arms for a long, warm kiss.

"You spoil him," Norah murmured, gesturing to Leo, who had just knocked his block tower down with a loud, triumphant babble.

"I am securing my heir’s education," Gabriel corrected smoothly, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her close to his side. "He has a sharp mind. He's going to run this city one day."

Norah rested her head on his shoulder, feeling a deep, profound sense of peace. The frightened woman who had knelt on a stained carpet pleading for her child's life felt like a distant ghost. Here, in Gabriel's arms, she was cherished, respected, and loved beyond measure.

"Speaking of heirs," Gabriel said softly, his deep voice vibrating against her cheek.

Norah looked up at him, a subtle blush creeping up her neck. "Yes?"

Gabriel reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet-lined box. He opened it to reveal a breathtaking ring—a flawless, emerald-cut diamond flanked by two smaller sapphires, glowing brightly in the afternoon sun.

Norah gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

"I don't want you to just be under my protection, Norah," Gabriel whispered, his eyes filled with an intense, vulnerable devotion. "I want you to be my wife. I want to give Leo my name legally. I want to spend the rest of my life making sure you never feel unsafe again."

Norah looked from the glowing ring to the man who had saved her life in every way that mattered.