Page 107 of Forbidden Vengeance

“Major news outlets running the story.”

“You’ve been so focused on tradition,” Elena adds from her bed, “you never saw us playing the long game. Everything we gathered, every piece of evidence—it was always meant for this moment.”

“You’re destroying everything,” he gasps, real fear finally replacing the madness in his eyes. “Generations of tradition, of proper values?—”

“No.” My voice holds that deadly quiet Giuseppe taught us to use—the calm before violence. “You destroyed it yourself. The moment you chose power over evolution. The moment you threatened my family.”

His body goes slack as the full implications hit him. Through our comms, we hear his empire collapsing in real time—forces abandoning their positions, hired specialists melting into the night, even his most loyal captains choosing survival over outdated loyalty.

“Target teams withdrawing from north entrance?—”

“Medical transport crew surrendering?—”

“All Calabrese forces in full retreat?—”

“Sir,” Antonio reports, satisfaction clear in his voice, “all hostile forces have been neutralized. The hospital is secure.”

The police arrive with perfect timing—another piece in our carefully orchestrated endgame. Anthony’s lawyers spring forward, their expensive suits rustling with desperate importance.

“Officer, you should be arresting him,” one gestures toward me. “Mario DeLuca is the real criminal here?—”

The chief of police cuts him off with a cold smile. “We have evidence of Mr. Calabrese’s involvement in human trafficking, money laundering, and attempted kidnapping. Step aside.”

I can’t help but smirk—the NYPD has been in DeLuca pockets since before I was born.

Some traditions are worth maintaining.

Anthony’s composure finally shatters completely. He lunges forward, all that polished sophistication dissolving into raw madness. “You can’t do this! I am a Calabrese! That’s my child?—”

I glance at Elena, expecting satisfaction, but her face is pure ice as she watches Anthony unravel. In that moment, she looks more dangerous than any DeLuca—a queen watching her enemy’s destruction with cold calculation.

It takes three officers to restrain Anthony as he thrashes and screams. His designer suit tears, his perfectly styled hair wild as he shrieks for his lawyers to do something, anything. The sight would be pitiful if I didn’t remember his threats against my family.

When it’s over, Anthony Calabrese—the heir who thought blood mattered more than love—is led away in handcuffs. His empire in ruins, his legacy destroyed, his obsession with tradition finally costing him everything.

Some men create their own destruction while claiming to protect tradition.

Some lessons can only be taught in handcuffs.

When we’re finally alone, Elena’s composure breaks. Tears stream down her face as months of tension release. “It’s over,” she whispers. “It’s really over.”

I gather them both into my arms, pressing a kiss to her hair. “We’re safe,” I promise. “All of us.”

She looks up at me, those clever eyes soft with emotion I’ve never seen before. “Would you like to hold your daughter?” she asks gently. “Stella Maria DeLuca?”

My throat closes at the name—not just the feminine version of my own, butDeLuca. She’s given our daughter my name, chosen my family over blood.

The gesture means more than any victory we’ve won tonight.

With trembling hands, I take Stella from Elena’s arms. She’s impossibly tiny, impossibly perfect—all dark lashes against pinkcheeks, rosebud lips, and delicate fingers that somehow still manage to grip my thumb with surprising strength. A perfect angel who somehow became mine despite biology, despite tradition, despite everything the old guard claimed about blood.

“Hello, little star,” I whisper, cradling her close. “I’m your papa. And I promise I’ll protect you forever.” I study her perfect face, already feeling myself fall completely, irrevocably in love. “In fact, I’m going to build you a tower. No one will ever be good enough for my princess?—”

Elena smacks my arm, rolling her eyes. “She’s not even an hour old and you’re already planning to lock her away?”

“Of course.” I grin, unable to take my eyes off our daughter. “Have to start early. No dating until she’s thirty.”

“You’re impossible,” Elena groans.

---