The Pregnant Maid Treated the Ignored Old Man Like Royalty—Unaware He Was the Mafia Boss’s Father / Chapter 7 / 10

Chapter 7 - Venom in the BloodThe tension in the room was so thick it felt suffocating. Victor slowly raised his hands, a mocking smile playing on his lips, though a glint of fear flickered in his eyes.

"Relax, cousin," Victor said smoothly, taking a step back from Nora. "I just came to report on the docks. The shipment from Palermo arrived, but the feds are crawling all over Pier 42. We need a decision."

"You came to my father's room to intimidate a woman," Lorenzo corrected, walking slowly into the space. He didn't take his eyes off Victor. "You think because my father is silent and I manage the board, you can test my authority?"

"I think you're distracted!" Victor barked back, his composure cracking. "The Commission is meeting next week in Brooklyn! The Falcone family is moving in on our territory in Queens, and you're up here in the mountains playing house with a maid! Uncle Giovanni is a vegetable, Lorenzo! He's been done for five years! It's time to stop wasting resources on a corpse and focus on the family!"

Crack!

Lorenzo’s fist moved so fast it was a blur. The blow struck Victor across the jaw, sending him stumbling back against the wall, blood spurting from his lip.

Victor gasped, clutching his face, his guards instantly reaching for their weapons—only to hear the sharp click-clack of Marco and three other estate guards chambering rounds behind them.

"If you ever speak of my father like that again," Lorenzo whispered, stepping up to Victor and grabbing him by his lapels, "I won't just hit you. I will erase your entire bloodline from the family records. Do you understand me?"

Victor spat blood onto the polished floor, glaring at Lorenzo with pure hatred. "Understood, Boss."

"Get out of my house," Lorenzo ordered, shoving him toward the door. "And if you come within ten miles of this estate without my explicit summons, I will consider it an act of treason."

Victor wiped his mouth, cast a dark, promising glare at Nora, and stormed out of the room, his guards scrambling after him.

Nora sank back onto her stool, her breathing ragged, holding her stomach tightly. Lorenzo turned to her, his harsh expression instantly softening as he walked over and knelt beside her chair.

"Are you alright?" he asked gently. "Did he hurt you?"

"I'm... I'm fine," she whispered, her hands shaking. "Lorenzo... he said there's a war coming. Is he right? Are you in danger?"

Lorenzo looked at her, then glanced at his father.

For the first time in five years, Giovanni’s fingers were moving rhythmically against the armrest—a distinct, coded tapping that only someone who knew the old Don well would recognize.

Lorenzo’s eyes widened slightly as he stared at his father's hand. It was the old Moretti battle tap—a signal Giovanni used during syndicate wars to order an immediate lockdown and mobilization.

Lorenzo realized then that his father was not only fully aware—his tactical mind was actively reacting to the threat.

"There is no war coming that I cannot finish, Nora," Lorenzo promised, looking back into her eyes. "I give you my word. No one will ever hurt you or your baby in this house."

He stood up, looking at Marco. "Initiate full defense protocol Alpha. Double the guards on the perimeter. No one leaves or enters without my personal clearance."