When a Maid’s Toddler Asked the Most Feared Man in New York to Watch Cartoons, the Secret Hidden Inside Her Gift Forced Him to Choose What Kind of Man He Would Become

The grand library was illuminated only by the roaring fire in the stone hearth.

Anthony Mercer sat bound in a wooden armchair in the center of the room, sweating profusely despite the winter chill. Standing behind him were four armed security guards. To his left, Marcus Vance was being tended to by a medic who was bandaging his mangled hand, while his two thugs were pinned against the far bookshelves.

The double doors swung open.

Adrian Kane walked in, followed by Benjamin Cole. Emily and Lily remained safely upstairs in the guest suite, under the protection of two trusted guards.

Adrian walked up to the mahogany desk, picked up the leather ledger, and tossed it onto the table in front of Mercer.

Mercer stared at the book, his face draining of all color. “Boss... I can explain—”

“Explain what, Anthony?” Adrian asked, his voice disturbingly calm as he poured himself a glass of amber scotch. “That you conspired with a midwestern thug to compromise my estate? That you leaked security codes to an outsider just to undermine my leadership on the council?”

“It’s not what you think!” Mercer stammered, thrashing against his restraints. “Adrian, the syndicate is changing! The old ways are dying! Rossi and the New Jersey families offered us a partnership—a unified front where we share the ports equally! You’ve gotten too isolated! You’re getting soft!”

Adrian took a slow sip of his scotch. He set the glass down and walked slowly toward Mercer until he was standing right over him.

“Soft,” Adrian repeated softly.

He reached out, grabbed Mercer by his lapels, and hoisted him out of the chair with effortless, terrifying strength.

“You think because I allowed a frightened mother and her child to stay under my roof that I forgot how to run this empire?” Adrian whispered, his face inches from Mercer’s. “You think because I chose to protect human life instead of an extra twelve million dollars on a ledger that my teeth have rotted out?”

“Adrian... please—”

“You broke the first rule,” Adrian said coldly. “You invited chaos into my house. You endangered a child.”

He shoved Mercer backward into the chair.

“Benjamin,” Adrian ordered without turning around.

“Boss?”

“Strip Anthony of all titles, accounts, and territory effective immediately. Distribute his holdings among the loyal regional captains in Brooklyn and Queens. Then put him on a private freighter headed south of the equator. I never want to see his face, hear his name, or receive a message from him again.”

“Done,” Benjamin said smoothly.

Marcus Vance whimpered from the corner. “And... and what about me, Mr. Kane?”

Adrian turned his cold gaze toward Marcus.

“You broke into my estate, you assaulted my staff, and you terrified a little girl,” Adrian said. “Benjamin, hand Marcus and his associates over to the federal task force currently investigating the Chicago Outfit. Make sure the lead investigator receives a complete, unredacted copy of this ledger along with their arrest warrants.”