The Mafia Boss Walked Away From His Own Wedding When He Saw the Little Girl His Family Had Buried From Him

The armored SUV pulled through the iron gates of the Hail family estate in Westchester.

The estate was a fortress of stone, marble, and manicured lawns, built by Garrett’s grandfather to withstand sieges. But as the car stopped in front of the main doors, Garrett could see the dark sedans parked in the driveway.

Eleanor Hail was already waiting.

Garrett stepped out of the car, extending a hand to help Maeve and Clara out. As Maeve stepped onto the grand portico, clutching Clara tight, the double doors swung open.

Eleanor Hail stood in the grand foyer. At sixty, she was a woman of terrifying poise, draped in black silk and pearls, her silver hair styled immaculate. Behind her stood six senior lieutenants of the Hail syndicate.

"Garrett," Eleanor said, her voice sharp as glass. "What is the meaning of this outrage? Julian Ashford has already declared war. Our docks in Brooklyn are being raided as we speak. Why are you not at the altar?"

Garrett walked into the foyer, his heavy boots echoing against the marble floor. Maeve stayed closely behind him, protected by Wesley and four loyal guards.

"I met my daughter today, Mother," Garrett said quietly.

Eleanor’s eyes flicked to Maeve, then to the child in her arms. Not a single trace of remorse crossed her pale face.

"That girl is a distraction," Eleanor said coldly. "She was a mistake from three years ago that I tried to clean up for you. You are the head of the Hail family, Garrett. You have responsibilities to our bloodline and our territory. Send that girl and her child away, call Julian Ashford, and apologize."

Garrett stopped three feet from his mother.

"You threatened my life to drive Maeve away," Garrett said, his gray eyes burning with lethal intent. "You lied to me for three years."

Eleanor didn't flinch. "I saved your life! An art girl with no family and no power could never help you rule this city! Coraline Ashford brings guns, money, and political immunity!"

"I don't need the Ashfords to rule," Garrett growled. "And I don't need a mother who trades my happiness for territory."

He turned to Wesley. "Strip my mother of her access to the family accounts. Place her under house arrest in the east wing. If she attempts to contact the Ashfords or leave this property, lock her in the cellar."