I Took Mafia Don’s Empire Chapter 01

I Took Mafia Don’s Empire Chapter 01

At my daughter’s fourth birthday party, my mother-in-law, Lucia Rinaldi, the former Donna of the Rinaldi Family, brought in a little boy.

She pushed him in front of me, her tone cold and final, as if she were announcing a family decree.

“Starting today, this child is yours and Matteo’s son.”

“The Rinaldi Family has too much at stake. We need a boy to inherit the seat.”

I cut a slice of cake and placed it in my daughter Ivy’s hands.

“And my daughter?”

Lucia frowned, like I had asked something childish.

“A girl doesn’t carry the family line.”

“She won’t take a seat at the Rinaldi table, and she won’t be the one men answer to when this family needs a head.”

“The seat stays with a son.”

I looked at the boy.

He stood beside Lucia in a small tailored suit. His eyes, his brows, even the shape of his mouth looked almost exactly like Matteo.

Matteo and I had been married for six years.

Now, out of nowhere, he had a seven-year-old son.

And that son was supposed to inherit what belonged to me.

I set down the cake knife, my voice calm.

“I have no problem with him inheriting the Rinaldi Family.”

“But everything you people have right now belongs to the Whitmores.”

The entire ballroom went dead silent.

Matteo leaned back on the sofa and gave a cold laugh.

“What do you mean everything we have belongs to the Whitmores?”

“Celeste, do you still think you’re the Whitmore heiress you used to be?”

“The Whitmores are finished, Celeste. Stop pretending that name still opens doors.”

“Look around you. This estate, this staff, that designer dress you’re wearing—none of it exists because of you.”

Lucia lifted a brow, looking me over with open contempt.

“You live under my son’s roof.”

“You enjoy his protection, his money, his name.”

“So don’t stand here acting like you’re the one keeping this family alive.”

I took a slow bite of cake and wiped the corner of my mouth with a napkin.

Mother and son both looked so proud now.

So different from the way they had begged six years ago.

Back then, the Rinaldi Family was bleeding money. Their off-the-books shipping routes had been cut off, their casinos and docks were hit at the same time, and the old East Coast families were ready to push them out for good.

Matteo’s father had once saved my mother’s life.

For that reason alone, I agreed to invest.

Back then, Matteo had stood outside Whitmore Manor with red eyes and said to me, “Miss Whitmore, I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me.”

“If you save the Rinaldi Family, my life is yours.”

And now he wanted to throw me out of my own home.

Ivy was only four.

She didn’t understand the filthy schemes between adults. She only leaned into my arms on instinct, her small fingers still clutching her birthday cake.

I lowered my head and stroked her hair.

Then I looked at Matteo.

“Matteo, you’d better think carefully.”

“Without the Whitmore Family, the Rinaldis wouldn’t have survived.”

Matteo laughed as if I had told a joke.

“Celeste, you know what I hate most? That superior tone of yours.”

“The Rinaldi inheritance should go to Rinaldi blood.”

His eyes flicked toward Ivy.

“Her name is Ivy Whitmore.”

“She isn’t a Rinaldi.”

I frowned.

“Ivy is your biological daughter.”

He didn’t even change his posture.

“So what?”

“She’s a girl.”

“And her last name is Whitmore.”

I looked into his eyes.

For six years, I had believed every emotion I saw there.

The tears when he proposed. The softness at our wedding. The gratitude when I signed the agreement that saved his family.

Now all of that was gone. He looked at me like I was no one.

I pointed at the boy beside Lucia.

“And him?”

“His last name is Rinaldi?”

Matteo tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting.

“You really didn’t figure it out?”

“Celeste, weren’t you always so smart?”

“He’s my son.”

“Enzo Rinaldi.”

“He’s seven.”

He said it without blinking.

No denial. No shame. Not even the courtesy of looking uncomfortable.

If anything, there was a faint satisfaction in his eyes, like he had been waiting years to say it to my face.

Something snapped inside my head.

“You’ve been married to me for six years.”

“He’s seven.”

“So he was already born before you came to Whitmore Manor and begged me to marry you?”

“Matteo Rinaldi.”

“You married me while hiding a son?”

He didn’t deny it.

He only looked at me, one brow still slightly raised.

Six years ago, he hadn’t been like this.

The first time he came to Whitmore Manor, he didn’t even dare ring the bell.

Later, he knelt in the rain and begged my mother for a chance.

He said he would sign the Whitmore marriage contract. He said he would accept the Whitmore Family’s terms on names and inheritance.

He said he would never betray me in this life.

But promises were never worth much in a mafia family.

Matteo stood and looked down at me.

“I brought Enzo here today so he can return to his family.”

“Starting today, he’s moving into the Rinaldi estate.”

“You will acknowledge him as your son.”

The guests in the ballroom watched us in silence. Several Rinaldi capos stood in the corner without saying a word.

They were waiting for my reaction.

They were also waiting for Matteo to truly secure his place as head of the family.

I lifted my eyes to him.

“And if I say no?”

Before Matteo could speak, a woman’s voice came from behind him.

“Then step down as Rinaldi Donna.”