My Mafia Ex Remarried Because I “Couldn’t Give Him an Heir”—Then Four Five-Year-Olds Asked, “Is This Where Dad Lives?”

Adrienne’s desperate visit was merely the opening act. The real threat arrived twenty-four hours later.

I was at the kitchen table, helping Noah and Clare with a puzzle, when the heavy sound of multiple car doors slamming echoed down the quiet suburban street. I looked out the window. Dominic’s black Escalades weren’t just observing anymore. They were blocking my driveway.

Out of the lead vehicle stepped Rosa Gallow.

The matriarch wore a sweeping black mink coat, looking entirely out of place in my middle-class neighborhood. Flanked by four massive security guards, she marched up my front walkway as if she owned the concrete beneath her feet.

"Mom?" Henry asked, noticing my sudden rigidity.

"Stay here, guys," I said, keeping my voice light. "Maya, lock the back door."

I stepped out onto the front porch, pulling the door firmly shut behind me. The freezing air bit at my skin, but the cold radiating from Rosa’s eyes was far worse.

"So, the rumors are true," Rosa sneered, looking past me at the modest house. "You hid my grandchildren in this pathetic little shack."

"They are my children, Rosa," I corrected sharply. "And you are trespassing."

"I am taking them," she announced, her tone leaving absolutely no room for debate. She signaled to her guards. "They belong at the estate. They need tutors, security, and a proper Gallow upbringing. Not a mother who buys their clothes at a discount store."

The guards took a step forward.

My heart hammered in my chest, but I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out my phone. I didn't dial 911. The police in this town were already bought by the syndicate.

Instead, I pressed a single button on speed dial and put it on speakerphone.

"Speak," Dominic’s dangerous voice filled the porch.

"Your mother is on my porch with four armed men, attempting to kidnap your children," I said calmly.

The silence on the other end of the line was absolute, followed immediately by a terrifying, guttural sound of pure rage.

"Put her on," Dominic commanded.

I held the phone out. Rosa looked at it, her arrogant smirk faltering.

"Mother," Dominic’s voice was lethal, dripping with a promise of violence. "If you or your men take one single step toward that door, I will personally burn your summer house to the ground with you inside it. Get off her property. Now."