“Will You Come Home with Us” The Mafia Boss’s Twins Asked the Rejected Florist to Come Home, but One Council Meeting Proved Who His Family Had Already Chosen

By Wednesday morning, the blizzard had cleared, leaving the grounds draped in a blinding sheet of white snow.

Olivia was in the sunroom, teaching Emma and Ella how to press winter rose petals into wax paper bookmarks. The girls were laughing—a sweet, clear sound that Maria said had been absent from the house for three long years.

The heavy glass doors of the sunroom clicked open.

A woman stepped inside.

She was stunning in an arrogant, lethal way. She wore a tailored crimson coat trimmed with black fox fur, diamond earrings that caught the sunlight, and high heels that tapped sharply against the marble floor. Her long dark hair fell in perfect waves, framing a face that was sharp, beautiful, and completely devoid of warmth.

Donatella Moretti.

Beside her walked two massive guards wearing suit jackets that bulged under the arms.

"So it's true," Donatella said, her voice dripping with smooth condescension as she looked around the sunroom. "Gabriel really has turned the estate into a charity home for the needy."

Emma immediately shrank back, reaching for Olivia’s hand. Ella stood in front of her sister, her little hands clenching into fists.

Olivia stood up slowly, putting herself between Donatella and the children.

"Who invited you in?" Olivia asked, keeping her voice completely steady.

Donatella laughed, a sharp, metallic sound. "I don't need an invitation to my future home, little girl. I am Donatella Moretti. My father controls every ship that docks in New York Harbor. And you... you’re the divorcee who sells cheap flowers on street corners."

"This is not your home," Ella spoke up, her small voice ringing clear. "Leave."

Donatella’s dark eyes flashed with irritation as she looked at the child. "You have your mother's bad manners, little girl. Don't worry. Once the Council settles this tomorrow, I will ensure you and your sister are sent to a proper boarding school in Switzerland. This house needs order, not spoiled brats."

Olivia’s blood ran hot. All fear vanished, replaced by an overwhelming, protective rage.

She took three steps forward, stopping inches from Donatella.

"Touch these girls, or talk to them like that again," Olivia said, her voice dropping to a icy register that surprised even herself, "and I will show you what a woman who has lost everything is capable of doing to protect what she loves."

Donatella blinked, surprised by the sheer ferocity in the florist’s eyes.

Before Donatella could reply, the heavy oak doors of the courtyard banged open. Gabriel walked in, flanked by four armed guards. His expression was thunderous.

"Donatella," Gabriel’s voice echoed off the glass walls. "You have five seconds to remove yourself from my property before my men carry you out."

Donatella turned, smoothing her fur coat with practiced elegance, though her jaw was clenched tight. "Enjoy your little game, Gabriel. Tomorrow night is the High Council meeting. My father will demand your allegiance, or we will strip the Duca family of its territory. Choose your florist... and lose your empire."

She turned on her heel and strutted out, her guards following close behind.

Gabriel didn't look at her as she left. He rushed straight to Olivia and the twins.

"Did she touch you?" Gabriel demanded, taking Olivia’s hands in his.

"No," Olivia whispered, her hands shaking as the adrenaline began to fade. "Gabriel... she threatened the girls. She said she would send them away."