“I was a detective in the Boston PD,” Vance said. “Your mother was a legal secretary for the Romanos. She knew too much, Clara.”

“She never told me anything about them,” I said.

“She was trying to protect you,” he said, stirring the milk. “But when Dominic’s wife died, and Dominic got shot, everything changed.”

“Why is Leo trying to kill these babies?” I asked. “They’re just infants.”

Vance leaned against the counter, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“The Romano family operates under a charter signed in 1944,” he said.

“A charter?” I asked.

“It’s a legal and ceremonial document,” Vance said. “It governs their assets, the front corporations, and the offshore accounts.”

He poured the warm milk into two clean plastic bottles he must have found in his cupboard.

“According to the charter, the entire empire cannot be divided,” he explained.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“It means the firstborn child of the current boss inherits everything,” Vance said.

I stared at him. “Dominic is the boss.”

“Exactly,” Vance said. “And these twins are his firstborn children.”