Chapter 113
The grand living room of the Salvatore mansion was a whimsical disaster, practically drowning in a sea of pastel-colored boxes.
Mina Park-Salvatore, her dark hair escaping its messy bun, sat cross-legged on the thick Persian rug, surrounded by the carnage of wrapping paper.
It lay strewn across the floor, a shimmering, confetti-like testament to the recent baby shower.
Her three-week-old twins, Luca and Sofia, slept soundly in their bespoke designer bassinets, blissfully unaware of the chaos.
"Another silver spoon set," Mina sighed, holding up an intricately ornate piece. "That's the seventh one. And for gold spoon set, ah, maybe twelve? Do people genuinely believe our children will stage an eight-handed feeding frenzy?"
Leo Salvatore was a picture of contained lethality, even in repose. He was sprawled on the deep leather sofa, devastatingly handsome in casual black slacks and a white dress shirt with the sleeves impeccably rolled to his forearms. At thirty-six, the dangerous, cold-edged intensity that defined him was still very much present. Yet, as he watched his wife, that famous glacial gaze was softened, warmed by a fierce, undeniable affection.
"It's a status symbol, tesoro," he explained, his Italian accent a low, smooth rumble. "Every family must outdo the others. The Bertollis sent eight spoons—one extra to compensate for their smaller territory."
Mina threw her head back and laughed. "That is the most absurdly mafia thing I've ever heard." She reached for a new, dramatically elegant black box. "Oh, this one’s actually kind of pretty—"
Her laughter died abruptly.
Nestled inside the box, against a bed of rich, blood-red tissue paper, was a set of silk lingerie. Scarlet lace, gossamer-thin fabric—utterly, completely inappropriate for a baby shower. But it was the card that made her heart slam against her ribs:
"For when the babies are sleeping. You deserve to feel beautiful. —Your Secret Admirer"
The air in the opulent room seemed to drop ten degrees, the pastel joy instantly replaced by a sharp, metallic tension.
"What is it?" Leo's voice was no longer relaxed; it had become an instrument of precision, smooth and lethal.
Mina instinctively slammed the box shut, but Leo was faster. He crossed the distance with a predatory grace that betrayed his true nature, plucking the offensive box from her hands before she could even form a protest. His jaw tightened as he read the card. Then re-read it. The muscle in his cheek began to twitch—a clear, universally recognized signal of impending catastrophe.
"Leo, it's probably just a mistake—" Mina began, trying to inject calm into the rapidly spiraling situation.
"A mistake?" Leo’s voice was dangerously quiet, a silken threat. He pulled out his phone, speed-dialing with his eyes still fixed on the black box. "Marco. My office. Now. Bring the complete guest list from the baby shower, security footage from the gift table, and a full background check on every single person who attended."
"Leo, you are being ridiculous—"
"Someone," Leo interrupted, his Italian accent thickening into a palpable threat, "sent my wife lingerie and signed it 'secret admirer.' In my house. At my children's celebration." He held up the card, his dark eyes flashing with a possessive, territorial fury. "This is not an overreaction, amore mio. This is me showing remarkable restraint by not razing the entire damn city to find whoever thought they could—"
Little Sofia, startled by the sudden shift in her father's tone, began to whimper and cry.
Mina shot Leo a sharp, pointed look as she hurried to lift their daughter. "See what you did? You're scaring your own daughter with your jealous alpha male routine."
Leo's expression softened momentarily as he watched Mina cradle Sofia, but his jaw remained stubbornly set. "I'm not jealous. I'm being cautious. Someone clearly has intentions toward you."
"Or it's a prank. Or a mix-up. Or literally anything except some dramatic conspiracy," Mina retorted.
"We are investigating," he stated, his tone brooking no dissent.
Marco materialized in the doorway with startling speed; the man was truly a study in efficient menace. Leo's right-hand man was tall, perpetually serious, and looked like he was constantly calculating an enemy's weakness. His slicked-back dark hair and immaculate black suit were, as always, flawless.
"Boss?" Marco’s voice was professionally neutral, though his eyes flickered once, with knowing understanding, to the lingerie box.
"Every guest," Leo commanded, handing over the card. "Cross-reference purchases, handwriting analysis, trace the box's origin. I want a full report by tonight."
Mina realized this was about to spiral into the exact kind of full-blown, paranoid investigation she'd spent their entire marriage trying to curb. Their peaceful post-baby bubble was on the verge of bursting.
"Absolutely not," Mina stated firmly, gently settling Sofia back into the bassinet. "Leo, we just had twins. I'm running on three hours of sleep. I am not spending our first month as parents watching you interrogate everyone we know over a piece of lace."
"Someone violated our home—"
"Someone gave a gift! Possibly the wrong gift, possibly a joke, possibly—"
Chapter 114
"Mina." Leo's voice dropped to that dangerous, subsonic octave that made underlings universally scramble for cover. "Someone is making advances toward my wife. I will not ignore this."
"Then you'll be sleeping on the couch," Mina shot back instantly. "Because I am not dealing with your jealous mafia overlord mode right now."
Marco cleared his throat awkwardly. "Should I... step out?"
"No," Leo said.
"Yes," Mina countered simultaneously.
Marco hesitated, looking like a deer caught between two extremely territorial lions. That's when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, and a flicker of genuine surprise crossed his usually impassive face.
Marco paused his preparation to step out. "Boss, while I initiate the full handwriting analysis and background checks," Marco reported, his voice cutting through the tension, "I already ran the basic guest and vendor lists against the initial surveillance footage. Only four non-vendors approached the gift table in the hour before the shower began. I have their immediate identities and cross-referenced purchase histories, which usually flags misdirected gifts. Given the context of the event and the specific high-end nature of the item,"
Marco gestured toward the box, "my initial assessment strongly suggested a deliberate mix-up or a familial gift. I can confirm Mrs. Alicia Salvatore was one of the four."
Just as Marco was about to elaborate on his internal theory, his phone buzzed with a communication that confirmed his swift deduction. "Boss," Marco said slowly. "The preliminary security footage just came through. The lingerie box was delivered separately from the other gifts."
"By whom?" Leo demanded, his eyes narrowed to slits.
Marco’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. "Mrs. Alicia Salvatore, sir. Your mother personally placed it on the gift table an hour before the shower began."
Leo's face went completely blank, a study in utter disbelief. Mina's eyes widened.
Then, from the doorway behind Marco, Alicia Salvatore's elegant, bright voice rang out. "Oh good, you found my gift! Mina darling, I hope the sizing is correct. You and Leo need to keep the romance alive, especially with twins. Trust me, after your husband was born, if I hadn't made an effort..." She swept into the room, immaculate in a cream Chanel suit, utterly oblivious to the tactical nuclear situation she'd just detonated.
Leo's expression morphed from deadly fury to abject horror as he stared at his mother, then at the scarlet lingerie in his hand, then back at his mother.
"You—" He couldn't seem to form a coherent sentence. "This is from—you sent my wife—"
"Of course, caro. I'm encouraging more grandchildren!" Alicia smiled brightly, a flash of pure innocence. "Now, I specifically chose red because it's powerful, and the lace is from Paris—"
"MOTHER!" Leo looked like he wanted the expensive Persian rug to swallow him whole. Leo stared at the scarlet lace in his hand, then at his smiling mother, then back at the lingerie as if it might spontaneously combust.
"Mother," he managed, his voice a strangled whisper. "I literally just ordered Marco to initiate a full-scale territorial investigation because I thought some rival mobster was making advances. I was moments away from calling Giovanni to start the interrogation protocols, demanding handwriting analysis on this card—" He gestured wildly. "You have compromised my security protocols, endangered the stability of my organization, and made me look like an unhinged fool over a pair of high-end thongs!" Mina watched, delighted, as the terrifying Capo de Capi turned into a completely mortified son.
Mina burst out laughing, actual tears streaming down her face. Marco’s lips twitched in what was likely the closest thing to a smile anyone had ever witnessed on his face.
But just as the tension evaporated into bewildered hilarity, Marco's phone buzzed again. This time, when he looked at the screen, the laughter died in the room. All color drained from Marco's face.
"Boss," Marco said, his voice urgent, stripped of all previous composure. "We have a bigger problem. The security system logged someone accessing the nursery cameras remotely. Multiple times. Over the past week."
Leo’s eyes snapped to the bassinets where his children slept, his entire body going instantly, terrifyingly rigid. The lingerie, the secret admirer, the ridiculous fight—all of it was forgotten in a heartbeat.
"Show me. Now." Someone had been watching his babies.
That certainly escalated quickly, didn't it?
**to be continued**
Thank you for reading the free sample of this novel. For the completed volumes, you can access the link below! I wish you gentle days and an excellent life!
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