Chapter 9 - The Trial of the Legacy
Six months later.
The Vance empire had entered an unprecedented era of peace and prosperity. With the Moretti family completely broken, no other syndicate dared to challenge Vincent’s authority. He had shifted much of his financial operations into legitimate real estate and international shipping, preparing a clean legacy for his family.
Norah was now eight months pregnant, her belly beautifully round. She sat in a rocking chair in the newly decorated nursery, which was filled with soft cream furniture, plush stuffed animals, and hand-painted murals of starlit skies.
Vincent walked into the room, carrying a tray of fresh fruit and warm milk. He had discarded his formal suits entirely while at home, wearing a simple gray sweater that made him look less like a feared mafia Don and more like a devoted husband.
"You need to rest, Norah," he chided gently, setting the tray down and kneeling beside her chair. He placed his hands on her stomach, feeling a sharp, energetic kick from inside. His face lit up with absolute joy. "Strong boy. He’s going to be a fighter."
"He takes after his father," Norah smiled, running her fingers through Vincent's dark hair. "Though I hope he inherits your discipline, not just your temper."
"He will inherit everything I have," Vincent said softly, his eyes full of devotion. "A clean name, a safe world, and a father who will love him unconditionally."
Suddenly, Norah gasped, her grip tightening on Vincent’s shoulder. A sharp, intense wave of pain rippled through her abdomen, followed by the undeniable sensation of warmth spilling down her legs.
Vincent went stiff, his eyes widening. "Norah?"
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"Vincent... my water just broke," she whispered, her breath hitching as another contraction began. "The baby... it's time."
For the first time in his life, Vincent Vance—the man who had faced armies without flinching—panicked. He bolted to his feet, yelling for Luca and the medical team, his heart hammering with a terrifying, beautiful excitement.
