Her Stepsister Tore Her Dress in Public — Then the Mafia King Covered Her with His Coat

Ava walked quickly into her private back office, closing the door behind her.

Niko was sitting at her desk, reviewing security reports. He looked up immediately, sensing the sudden change in her energy.

“Ava? What’s wrong?”

Ava handed him the black parchment letter.

Niko read the note, his face turning as cold as carved granite, his dark eyes flashing with lethal fury. He crumpled the parchment paper in his fist.

“Julian,” Niko spat softly, his jaw setting in a hard line.

“Niko... who is he?” Ava asked, her voice shaking slightly. “Is he really your brother?”

Niko stood up, walking over to the window that looked out over the lit streets of SoHo.

“Julian was my father’s eldest son,” Niko explained softly. “Five years ago, he tried to sell our family's maritime shipping lines to an international cartel. When I exposed him, my father banished him from North America.”

He turned back to face Ava, his expression filled with deep, protective resolve.

“Julian was the one who funded Richard Whitmore’s original buyout ten years ago,” Niko revealed. “He’s been hiding in Geneva, using your mother’s stolen patents to launder syndicate money across Europe.”

Ava caught her breath. “So this wasn't just about my stepfamily... Julian was behind everything from the beginning.”

Niko stepped closer, gently taking both of her hands into his broad, warm palms.

“Julian thinks he can come back to New York and take what belongs to us,” Niko said quietly, his voice laced with absolute certainty. “He thinks he can use your mother’s name to destroy what we’ve built.”

Niko reached into his coat pocket, pulled out the gold key with the black rose bow, and placed it securely in Ava’s hand, closing her fingers around it.

“We finished Richard and Victoria, Ava,” Niko whispered, looking deep into her eyes. “And together, we are going to finish Julian.”

Ava looked at the gold key resting in her palm, then looked up into the dark, fierce eyes of the man who had covered her torn dress with his coat on the worst night of her life.

She didn't feel fear. She felt an unbreakable, roaring fire burning in her chest.