The Mafia Boss Who Divorced Me for Another Woman Dropped to His Knees at a Manhattan Gala When He Saw Three Identical Pairs of Gray-Green Eyes—And Realized Serena Had Kept His Sons Secret From Him

Gabriel had crossed the remaining distance between us, his massive frame towering over me, casting a protective, shadowy canopy across my three sons. His gaze shifted frantically among Julian, Leo, and Oliver, drinking in every detail of their faces as if trying to memorize a map he had never been given.

My smallest son, Oliver, instinctively retreated behind the folds of my navy velvet dress, peeking out with wide, cautious gray-green eyes.

Gabriel stopped dead in his tracks. For perhaps the first time in his entire life, the ruthless king of the underworld looked utterly helpless, his hands twitching at his sides as he tried to figure out how to approach his own flesh and blood without terrifying them.

Then, Oliver leaned his head around my hip, studying the tall, intimidating man in the bespoke suit with childish curiosity.

—Are you our dad? —Oliver piped up, his high, innocent voice cutting through the hushed tension of the room like a silver bell.

The entire world seemed to vanish.

Gabriel’s breath hitched. Without a single second of hesitation, the feared mafia boss slowly, deliberately lowered himself onto one knee right there on the expensive hotel carpet, bringing his face level with Oliver’s.

—I... I think I am, son, —Gabriel whispered, his voice trembling with an emotion so raw it shocked even me. He reached out a large, calloused hand, his fingers hovering inches from Oliver’s cheek, terrified to touch him in case the boy vanished like a ghost.

Before Gabriel’s fingertips could brush Oliver’s face, a sharp, manicured hand grabbed Gabriel fiercely by the shoulder.

—Gabriel, don't! —Serena shrilled, her voice cracking with unconcealed panic as she yanked him upward.

Gabriel’s head snapped toward her. His dark eyebrows pulled together into a terrifying, lethal line.

I watched Serena’s face closely, and a cold wave of realization washed over me.

She wasn't just shocked.

She wasn't just surprised.

She was terrified.

Her chest was heaving, her eyes darting frantically around the ballroom as if expecting assassins to drop from the ceiling. Her fingers clawed desperately into Gabriel’s sleeve.

—Serena, step back, —Gabriel ordered, his voice dropping into that dark, lethal register that had made rival syndicate bosses beg for mercy.

—Gabriel, you don't know what she’s doing! This is a trap! She’s playing you! She wants your money, she wants your empire, she—'

—Shut your mouth, Serena, —Gabriel snarled, shrugging her hand off his arm with a violence that made her stumble backward.

He turned his piercing gray-green eyes back to me. The confusion in his gaze had vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating realization that was far more dangerous.

—How long? —Gabriel asked me softly, his voice dangerously controlled. —How long have you known about the boys, Claire?

I held his gaze steadily, refusing to flinch.

—From the beginning, Gabriel. I knew when I left your house.

He absorbed the blow like a physical punch, his jaw tightening until the muscles stood out in white ridges. But before he could speak, a sharp, terrified gasp escaped Serena’s lips.

She took another panicked step backward, turning to flee toward the exit doors.

And in that single, frozen fraction of a second, looking at the sheer, unadulterated terror radiating from Serena Vale, the final, missing piece of a horrifying puzzle slammed into place in my mind.