Lorenzo POV
I was sitting in my office with my two older sons and my younger brother, who is also my second-in-command in the mafia. We — the La Rosas — are the most feared and ruthless family in all of Italy. No one dares to cross us.
Since my wife's betrayal, my sons and I have grown colder, harder, and far more ruthless than before. A few months after Elena left, I learned who she truly was — a masterful actress who had fooled me from the beginning. She was never in love with me. She wanted the La Rosa name — the power, wealth, and reputation that came with it.
She never cared for our children, either. The only time she mentioned them during the divorce was when she threatened to take custody of the younger ones. Of course, she didn't want them; she wanted the child support. So I made her a deal — five million euros every year for 5 years and the comfortable life she craved, in exchange for full custody or I could just kill her right now and she won't get anything.
Now of course I was not going to kill the mother of mu children but the aura I gave would say otherwise, She signed the papers without a second thought and walked away, never once looking back. She disappeared without a word — no calls, no visits, nothing. Months later, I tried to find her — for my children's sake.
But what I discovered made my blood run cold. She hadn't only been unfaithful; she had been leaking information to the Spanish. She put my family, my children, in danger. That was unforgivable. I wanted to stop sending her the money but we had a contract and the money was automate so i just let it be.
"Lorenzo." Pietro's voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
I blinked, realizing he must have asked me something. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
He leaned back in his chair, his expression tense. "The Spanish are planning something. They're too quiet for my liking."
Pietro isn't just my brother; he's my consigliere — sharp, loyal, and as ruthless as I am. We discussed a few more matters of business before he left. Only my two eldest sons remained.
We were going over the legal front of our operations when my phone buzzed with an unknown number — a U.S. number. Since it was my business line, I assumed it was someone from our American restaurant branch. I answered.
"Hello, am I speaking with Mr. Lorenzo La Rosa?" a woman's voice asked, polite but nervous. "Yes," I replied, my tone cold, detached.
I heard the sound of papers shuffling before she continued, "My name is Jane Harper. I'm a social worker based in New York—"
"Get to the point," I interrupted. "I don't have all day."
"Oh—right. Um, we have your daughter, Alessandra Knight, here at the New York Police Department. She's in need of a guardian. Her mother and stepfather died in a car accident earlier today, and we couldn't locate any other relatives. Are you willing to assume the custody?"
For a brief moment, I froze. "I don't have a daughter," I said flatly.
Across the room, my sons exchanged confused looks, their attention now fixed on me. I was about to hang up, thinking it was some kind of cruel joke, when the woman spoke again — and her words turned my world upside down.
"You were married to Mrs. Elena Knight, formerly known as Ms. Elena Williams. She was confirmed deceased in the crash. We conducted a DNA test on her daughter, Miss Alessandra Knight, and the results identified you as her biological father."
Silence. My throat tightened. I couldn't find my voice.
"Sir?" the woman prompted gently.
"If you choose not to take her, she'll be placed in foster care." That snapped me back to reality. "You're certain she's mine?"
"Yes, sir. The DNA test confirms it. I can send you the report and a photo if you'd like."
"Yes," I said, almost automatically.
"Send them." A few seconds later, my phone buzzed with an email. I opened it on my laptop that was in front of me.
There she was. A girl — fragile and small for her age, with bluish-green eyes and a face that mirrored my own. I didn't even need the DNA results. One look, and I knew.
She was mine. I stared at the photo for a long moment, something unfamiliar twisting in my chest. Then I spoke, my voice low and certain.
"I'll take custody."