I Raised His Mistress's Son as My Heir for Six Years

At our annual family masquerade gala, my best friend, tipsy from champagne, suddenly leaned close to my ear.

"If I ever became another man's mistress, would you still want to be my best friend?"

Before I could recover from the provocative question, she swirled her champagne and continued.

"Actually, I didn't miss yesterday's family meeting because of a migraine."

"The man installed a floor-to-ceiling mirror in his private casino office. He wanted to try something a little crazy with me."

"And that trip to Las Vegas last month? I lied about inspecting the casinos. His wife is about as exciting as a block of wood, so he took me to Monaco on his yacht instead."

My fingers tightened around my champagne flute. I froze.

Then she burst out laughing and patted my shoulder.

"Oh, God, I'm kidding! You should have seen your face."

I slowly exhaled, managing a strained smile.

It wasn't until late that night that I went to the casino with an urgent port smuggling agreement in hand to find my husband.

The moment I opened his office door, I noticed that the original floor-to-ceiling windows had been replaced with a massive one-way mirror.

——

Serena's POV

"Why did you seal off the bulletproof glass and replace it with this?"

Julian Vance approached me, slipped an arm around my waist out of habit, and kissed my cheek.

"The old glass cracked during a shootout."

I said nothing, merely nodding with a stiff smile.

But the moment he turned to pour himself a whiskey, my eyes locked onto two handprints in the lower-right corner of the mirror.

Their size and height made one thing certain.

They weren't his.

The moment I left the casino, I called the family's enforcer.

"Replace that floor-to-ceiling mirror in the casino tonight with two-way glass."

"Then notify every underground media outlet in New York and all our FBI informants. The Falcone family will hold a press conference downstairs at the casino the night after tomorrow."

After giving those orders, I activated the family's most secretive intelligence network and ordered a thorough investigation into Julian's movements over the past six months.

My intelligence chief assured me he'd have the results within forty-eight hours.

At dinner, Julian suddenly pushed a thick stack of documents toward me halfway through the meal.

"Serena, remember the asset separation agreement I mentioned last time? The lawyers have drawn it up. Just sign here."

"The FBI is tightening its RICO investigation. If we don't stage a divorce and separate our assets, the federal agents could freeze our accounts, and Luca's future would be ruined."

I put down my knife and fork and opened the agreement.

The edges of the pages were visibly worn, and cigar ash stained the paper.

This agreement hadn't been drafted today.

He'd been handling it, revising it, and plotting this betrayal for a long time.

The English clauses were perfectly clear. The casino's controlling interests, the port smuggling routes, and every Manhattan property owned by the family would go to Julian. Meanwhile, I'd be left with a pile of debt-ridden shell companies and the tax evasion charges that came with them.

As for custody of our son, that would unquestionably go to his father.

The farther I read, the more my heart felt as though it were being submerged in ice water.

A month ago, he'd used the FBI investigation as an excuse to propose separating our assets.

Back then, I'd believed he was trying to preserve our family's century-old legacy. I'd agreed without a second thought.

But now, staring at the black-and-white terms, I felt a chill crawl down my spine.

The FBI investigation was real, but that didn't justify him pushing me entirely out of the family's power structure.

My mother-in-law, Beatrice, sat across from me. When she noticed my silence, she immediately chimed in.

"Serena, it's just a legal formality. Transferring the assets into Julian's name is simply a way to keep those damn cops off our backs."

"We're family. We've all sworn before the Virgin Mary to stand by one another. Once this blows over, you can always go back to church and renew your vows."

I closed the agreement and dabbed the corners of my mouth with my napkin.

"Beatrice, giving up my inheritance and walking away with nothing isn't a minor decision. Even if I'm going to sign, my personal legal team needs to review everything first."

Her expression darkened instantly. She slammed her wineglass against the table.

"What exactly is that supposed to mean? Every time family business comes up, you act like we're strangers!"

Julian sighed and reached across the table to grip my wrist.

"Serena, don't you trust me anymore?"

"Remember when we fought for territory on the streets with our men? I took a bullet for you. My life belongs to you. What are a few assets on paper compared to that?"

Listening to the heartfelt performance put on by mother and son, I nearly laughed out loud.

The empire my father had built. The decade I'd spent cleaning up its operations and bringing its businesses into the legitimate world.

Now every shareholding and every cash flow would belong to Julian.

He'd even included the estate my mother had left me.

And I'd be left with nothing but criminal charges that could send me straight to federal prison.

Did they really think I was some naive girl from the slums who could be fooled so easily?

I suppressed the murderous fury in my eyes and pushed the agreement back toward him.

"Fine. But the port shipments need to be audited over the next couple of days. Once I return from Miami next week, we can handle the paperwork."

At my answer, Beatrice's expression immediately brightened.

Julian raised his glass.

"Thank you, sweetheart. Everything we're doing is for the future of our family."

The following day was the equestrian show jumping event at the elite country club.

I'd canceled an early meeting with the family's senior members so I could change into my riding clothes and accompany Luca.

But Julian did something unexpected. He canceled a black-market deal and changed into an expensive designer casual outfit instead.

"You were up late reviewing the accounts last night. Let me take Luca to the stables today. You should stay home and rest."

As I watched him carry our son out the door, every nerve in my body went on alert.

In the past, he'd always found an excuse to skip Luca's school events and family activities, claiming business meetings couldn't wait.

Since when had he become such a devoted father?

I went into the garage, chose an inconspicuous black SUV, and followed them from a distance.