All Chapters of My Father’s Enemy, My Obsession : Chapter 151 - Chapter 158

Leo never thought he’d miss paperwork.Not the corporate kind—expense reports, HR forms, the occasional liability waiver. Those are still terrible.But the kind of paperwork that comes with quiet: intake forms, background checks, dull as dishwater incident reports that end with “no further action required.”It’s a different life than stalking shadows for Vince Moretti.Different, and better.He stands at the window of his office, coffee cooling on the desk behind him, and watches the street below.The sign on the door downstairs reads:> **Valence Security Solutions** > Discretion. Integrity. Teeth.Riley came up with the tagline. Of course she did.Half the clients he has now came through Empire of Sin referrals. Small businesses in neighborhoods Vince once starved. Community centers that used to be under “protection” from people like him. A few high‑profile figures who know things could go badly if the wind shifts.He vets his staff the way he wishes someone had vetted him twenty

Snow in New York is always a gamble.Sometimes it’s gray slush and wet cuffs and cabs fishtailing around corners.Tonight, it’s the good kind.Flakes drift past the penthouse windows in slow spirals, catching the city’s light, turning the view into something out of a postcard.Inside, the apartment is a different kind of chaos.The tree in the corner is entirely too large for the space—Damian’s doing; he insisted “go big or go home” applied to Evergreens as well as empires. Its branches are heavy with ornaments collected over the last decade: glossy glass spheres from charity galas, Sofia’s macaroni stars, Mateo’s aggressively glittered dragon cutouts, a slightly crooked Empire of Sin logo Riley had made as a joke.“Your branding is out of control,” Nolan had said when they first hung it.Now, he sits on the floor in rolled‑up shirt sleeves, helping Mateo assemble a small robot kit while Riley supervises from the couch with a mug of hot chocolate, bossing them both around.“No, no, yo

The ribbon is unnecessary.It’s a strip of red satin stretching across the glass doors of the new center, fluttering in the mild breeze. Pure optics. Pure ceremony.But as Ava stands in front of it, scissors in hand, looking up at the building behind it, she finds she doesn’t mind the pageantry.The structure is three stories of brick and glass on what used to be a cracked‑concrete lot ringed with chain‑link.Now: a community center on the ground floor—gym, classrooms, legal clinic, co‑working space. Two floors of mixed‑income housing above. A rooftop garden Cass has already threatened to rig with sensors and secret Wi‑Fi.A banner hangs over the entrance:> **THE HARTMORE COMMUNITY HUB** > A Project of Empire of Sin & The Sofia Emilia FoundationRiley pushed the name—Hart from Damian’s father, more from Moretti—blending scar tissue and possibility into something that felt like more than a logo.The crowd gathered in front is a mix Ava has grown used to over the last decade and stil

The rain comes in thin, luminous threads.Not enough to send people running for cover, just enough to turn the streets into mirrors. Neon signs smear across wet pavement, traffic lights bleed color, and car headlights streak like comets.From the rooftop terrace of their Empire of Sin headquarters, the city looks like it did the night everything started—But it isn’t.Ava leans on the glass railing, palms pressed to the cool surface, watching the blur of umbrellas and cabs and late‑night wanderers far below.Neon from a billboard across the avenue paints her in pulses of pink and blue.Behind her, the building hums—servers, elevators, and quiet conversations from cleaning crews finishing their rounds. Their building.The one with their logo discreetly etched into the lobby glass.The one whose top floors house boardrooms and offices and a rooftop garden she knows every inch of.The one that would never have existed if they’d died in that first dark room.Damian steps out onto the terr