The empires are changing changing.
In the dark, two kings sharpened their blades.
Dominic Moretti moved like a ghost through Europe, reaching into the old veins of his father's empire. Men who once owed favors to the Moretti name began surfacing again, quietly pledging their loyalty. Some were mercenaries, others politicians disguised as businessmen. Dominic didn't move in crowds. He didn't send Tobias or Jay to negotiate. These new bonds were sealed by his own hands, whispered over wine-stained tables in candlelit rooms where no recording could reach. Each night, his secret army grew stronger and an invisible shield forming around his unborn child and the woman he worshiped.
On the other side of the chessboard, the unknown man,Isabella's brother was carving his army out of Dominic's shadows. He didn't need Dominic's routes; he already knew them. He didn't need trust; he had dirt. Each week, another one of Dominic's men quietly bent the knee, choosing survival over loyalty. Those who resisted were silenced, their bodies never found. And Trevor's gang, once fractured and disgraced, began to breathe again under his hand. Like Dominic, he reached overseas, promising wealth and vengeance. His name wasn't whispered yet, but his presence was a storm waiting to break.
Nine months passed in the blink of an eye.
Elena's once-flat belly now curved with life. The psychotic queen who once reveled in blood now carried a softness that surprised even herself. She spent her days arranging baby clothes and tiny shoes in drawers, sometimes staring at them for too long, as if the reality of motherhood still felt unreal. But Dominic watched her silently, and in her glow he found strength.
Then came the surprise.
It was supposed to be an ordinary day .Elena thought Dominic had gone out for another "meeting." Instead, he led her blindfolded to the sound of crashing waves. When the blindfold came off, the tears fell before she could stop them.
A beachside baby shower.
The sun was sinking low, painting the horizon gold. White tents lined the sand, draped with soft fabric that fluttered with the sea breeze. Tables were filled with candles, flowers, and trays of food. There were strings of tiny baby clothes pinned like decorations, soft blue and cream balloons swaying in the salty wind.
Her men,Dominic's men stood there, clapping. Tobias, Jay, even some of the roughest killers wore suits instead of tactical black, looking completely out of place with party hats forced onto their heads. Someone popped a champagne bottle, and the cork flew high, making Elena laugh through her tears.
"You did this…?" Her voice cracked as she turned to Dominic.
He brushed away a tear from her cheek, his hand lingering against her skin. "You wanted the beach. You'll have the beach. And anything else you ask for."
For the first time, Elena cried not out of rage or pain but joy. She clutched his suit, burying her face into him as her bump pressed against his stomach. And the men stared, shocked. The ruthless mafia boss and his psychotic queen, reduced to tears over balloons and baby shoes.
After Elena wiped away her tears, laughing at Tobias struggling to balance a balloon hat on his bald head, Dominic stood. His suit was crisp, his presence magnetic,the kind of silence that made men pause mid-drink.
"Enough small talk," he said, voice deep, commanding, laced with that iron authority that made the sand itself seem to still. "Tonight isn't just about celebrating the future. Tonight, we play a game."
The guests stilled. A few exchanged uneasy looks, because Dominic's idea of a "game" rarely meant anything innocent.
Elena tilted her head, suspicious but intrigued. "Dom… what are you up to?"
His lips curled into a rare, boyish smirk. "A reveal. But not the kind you've seen before. You think I'd let balloons or cakes decide how my child's identity is announced?"
The men chuckled, shaking their heads. Of course not.
Dominic clapped once, and Tobias whistled sharply. From the edge of the beach, Jay rolled out two large, black wooden crates. They looked like they belonged in an armory, not a baby shower. Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Elena blinked. "Please tell me that isn't what I think it is—"
Dominic cut her off with a kiss to her forehead. "Relax, amore. This is for you."
He waved his hand, and Tobias unlocked the crates. Inside: sleek handguns, polished to perfection, each with a single magazine. The crowd erupted in murmurs.
Elena groaned, dragging her hand over her face. "You've got to be kidding me."
Dominic's smirk deepened. "Mafia blood runs in our veins. It's only fitting that our child's first announcement comes with fire."
The rules were simple.
Two targets had been set up at the far end of the beach, painted in shadow. The two contains the baby's gender ,any one shot will reveal the gender .
Some of the men were handed a gun, even Elena though Dominic kissed her hand and whispered, "You're not lifting a finger tonight. Watch me."
The crowd lined up. Laughter and jeers filled the air as shots rang out, bullets cracking through the night. One by one, men missed or hit empty wood, until Dominic himself stepped forward.
The beach stilled.
He raised his weapon, calm, precise. The sea breeze tugged at his suit jacket. His eyes flicked once to Elena, who stood with her hand over her belly, her heart in her throat. Then he squeezed the trigger.
The world exploded.
A thunderous crack split the air, and the target burst open in a violent storm of pink powder, flames licking the edges where the bullet hit. The smoke drifted over the crowd, staining their clothes, their faces.
A girl.
Elena gasped, tears instantly spilling down her cheeks. The men roared with laughter and applause, some whistling, others chanting, "La principessa! La principessa!"
Dominic lowered his gun, holstered it with a flourish, and strode to Elena. She didn't wait,she ran into his arms, kissing him hard, not caring who watched. The crowd cheered louder, their boss softened in a way none had ever seen.
"Dominic…" she whispered, shaking against him. "A daughter."
He held her tighter than ever, burying his face into her hair. "Our daughter." His voice cracked, just slightly, but only Elena heard.
His men toasted, shouted, even danced on the sand like boys instead of soldiers.
"Your boss has a daughter!" Tobias roared, lifting his glass high. "A Moretti princess!"
The crowd cheered again, music blaring from the speakers set up near the tiki torches. Elena leaned into Dominic's chest, whispering, "This is perfect, Dom. Just perfect."
He kissed her temple. "Only the best for you, amore."
For the first time in months, his heart was lighter. He looked around, at faces loyal to him, laughing, drunk on celebration. For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to believe maybe, just maybe this empire could still hold.
Then it happened.
A thunderous crack ripped through the music