"Who Gave You Permission to Come in Here?" The Mafia Boss Found a Little Girl Inside His Locked War Room—But Her Tiny Finger on His Computer Exposed the Traitor He Raised Like Family

Alessandro didn't flinch.

He had anticipated the move before Robert’s fingers even tightened on the trigger.

As Robert raised his weapon, Alessandro pivoted on his heel, shifting his body to shield Mia behind the steel partition while firing two rounds in rapid succession.

BANG! BANG!

The loud reports of the unsuppressed Beretta shattered the quiet of the vault like thunder.

The first bullet struck Robert’s right wrist, shattering the bone and sending his suppressed pistol spinning across the concrete floor. The second bullet tore through Robert’s right knee, sending the old man crashing down onto the cold floor with a agonized scream!

“AAAAGH!” Robert writhed on the ground, clutching his ruined knee as blood pooled onto the polished concrete.

The heavy steel doors of the war room burst open!

Six heavily armed Duca guards, led by Alessandro’s chief of security, Viktor, rushed into the room with weapons drawn, their eyes wide as they saw the scene before them.

“Boss!” Viktor yelled, sweeping his weapon around the room before locking it onto the bleeding consigliere on the floor. “What happened?!”

“Robert Langley is a traitor,” Alessandro commanded coldly, stepping out from behind the partition with Mia held safely in his arms. “Disarm him. Bandage his leg so he doesn't bleed out. Secure him in the sub-level three holding cells.”

Viktor stared at Robert in utter shock, then looked at the little girl resting her head on Alessandro’s shoulder.

“Sir... who is the girl?” Viktor stammered.

“This is Mia Duca,” Alessandro announced, his voice carrying an unquestionable authority that echoed down the steel hallway. “She is Marco’s daughter, and the princess of this house. Treat her accordingly.”

The guards moved instantly, dragging the screaming, cursing former consigliere out of the war room and down the dark corridor toward the cell blocks.

Alessandro looked down at Mia. The gunshots had been loud, but she hadn't cried. She had simply held onto his jacket, her hazel eyes watching him with quiet trust.

“Are you hurt, Mia?” Alessandro asked softly.

“No, Uncle Alessandro,” she whispered, using the title for the first time. “Is... is Daddy going to be okay?”