Exposed to the CEO Behind the Mafia Mask

Chapter 459: Chapter 55 Family War Council

Daniel’s POV

The weight of deception pressed down on my shoulders as I drove toward Greenleaf, navigating through the winding roads that led to Martinez family territory. I had managed to slip away from Sasha’s surveillance temporarily, but my mind churned with unrest. After considerable deliberation, I decided a Sunday visit to my parents was unavoidable to address the sudden reappearance of my not-quite-ex-wife. My strategy was straightforward: drive to the family estate, confront my father about this judicial manipulation, and race back to Brooklyn—back to Lila.

I despised myself for deceiving her, claiming I was handling a case when I was actually confronting ghosts from my past. But what alternative did I have? If Lila discovered that Sasha had somehow nullified our divorce through my father’s corrupt judicial connections and I was technically still bound in marriage, she would abandon me without hesitation. Her unwavering moral principles wouldn’t tolerate such complications. I couldn’t risk losing her, not when she had become my entire world.

Gregory waited in his silver Audi at the estate gates, his familiar face a welcome sight amid the chaos surrounding our family.

”Gregory, brother, thanks for the escort,” I said, embracing him firmly.

He returned the embrace with equal intensity before releasing a weary sigh. ”Man, being the family disappointment around here is brutal! I’ve officially joined you and Sybilla in the black sheep brotherhood.”

”What transgression knocked you from your throne?” I asked, genuinely intrigued.

”Sloane and I refuse to produce heirs on command, and apparently that brands us as traitors to the bloodline,” he explained as we approached his vehicle. ”Mother keeps insisting I’d comprehend their urgency if I understood family legacy. Life was infinitely simpler when I was the golden successor.”

I couldn’t contain my amusement. Throughout our childhood, Sybilla and I endlessly heard how we should mirror Gregory’s perfection. He represented the ideal Martinez heir, the benchmark against which we were measured and consistently found deficient. Hearing ”Why can’t you demonstrate Gregory’s discipline?” haunted our adolescence.

”Never imagined witnessing this moment,” I taunted. ”The day Saint Gregory tumbled from his pedestal.”

”Let’s stop at my place before confronting the patriarchs,” Gregory suggested as we drove through the secured compound. ”Sloane wants to see you, and she’s boycotting family gatherings these days. Plus, there’s intelligence you need before walking into the lion’s den.”

”Sloane is avoiding family meetings? The situation must be more volatile than I realized.”

”You have absolutely no comprehension,” Gregory replied ominously.

During the drive, he detailed how our parents relentlessly pressured him about continuing the bloodline. Our mother had apparently informed Sloane she should abandon her legal career to become a ”proper family matriarch”—whatever that meant in the antiquated world our parents inhabited, where wives were expected to manage social appearances while husbands conducted business.

When we arrived at Gregory’s residence within the compound, I was surprised to find Sybilla waiting there as well.

”This reception committee is making me apprehensive,” I remarked.

”You don’t understand the magnitude,” my brother muttered as Sloane and Sybilla rushed to greet me.

Sloane embraced me tightly before inquiring, ”Daniel, how many bedrooms does your Brooklyn apartment have?”

”Three. Why?” I replied, puzzled.

”Because you’re our emergency refuge,” she declared with a half-serious smile. ”When we finally break and flee your parents’ tyranny, we’re seeking asylum at your place.”

”Who would have predicted you’d become the household rebel, Sloane?” I laughed at her expression of mock indignation.

”Your parents are impossible! Gregory’s approaching forty—don’t they understand we’ll produce heirs when we’re prepared, not when they mandate it?”

”They don’t comprehend anything that contradicts their grand design,” I explained. ”They’ve always achieved their objectives through influence and manipulation. Defiance from their own children represents uncharted territory.”

After Sloane finished expressing her frustration about my parents’ obsession with grandchildren and traditional family roles, Sybilla shared her predicament regarding the arranged marriage our parents were orchestrating with another prominent family.

”Is the situation really that advanced?” I asked, disturbed by how far this political alliance had progressed.

”That insufferable Grant haunts our house constantly now,” Sybilla lamented, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. ”Mother’s announced to everyone in our social circle that we’re courting and practically engaged. Apparently, I’m the only person who didn’t receive notification about my own romantic status.”

”Now for the main attraction,” Gregory announced with grim satisfaction. ”The saga of the most rebellious Martinez heir. I know Father’s strategy.”

”So do I. Sasha’s already made contact,” I admitted, watching their expressions shift from curiosity to shock.

”He’s moving aggressively,” Gregory observed. ”He tracked her down in Boston and brought her back to New York. But what’s his ultimate objective? After all this time since your divorce...”

I proceeded to update them on everything—Sasha’s absurd claims, the fabricated family emergency, and her insistence that we remained legally married due to Father’s judicial connections. By the time I finished, they were equally amused and horrified.

”And how did Lila react to this chaos?” Gregory asked pointedly. ”Father’s furious about you living with her, incidentally. He acquired that information through private investigation.”

”Naturally he did,” I muttered. ”That explains how Sasha possessed such detailed knowledge about my life. But Lila doesn’t know anything about this situation yet. She doesn’t even know I was previously married.”

”You must tell her,” Sloane advised firmly. ”If she discovers this from another source, she’ll leave you. I certainly would.”

”The complication is Lila’s relationship with her mother is already toxic. Her mother raised her under oppressive control and constantly undermines her confidence. They’re at war, and I don’t want to add to her burdens.” I ran a hand through my hair. ”Plus, she’s only eighteen. I’m terrified she’ll flee when she learns the truth, regardless of how she discovers it.”

”Wait—” Sybilla leaned forward. ”Are you in love with her?”

”It transcends that,” I confessed. ”I love her completely. She’s extraordinary—beautiful, intelligent, compassionate. Somehow that little one has become everything to me.”

”Little one?” Gregory chuckled. ”Since when do you prefer petite women?”

”First time for everything. She’s about five-three,” I smiled fondly. ”But her presence dominates any room.”

”We must meet her!” Sloane declared excitedly. ”She must be exceptional.”

”Why don’t you all visit during the holidays? She’d adore meeting you,” I suggested.

”I’m already planning my itinerary,” Sybilla beamed, momentarily forgetting her own troubles.

Glancing at my watch, I sighed. ”Time to face the music.”

”Father’s arranged a family lunch today,” Gregory confirmed. ”They don’t know you’re coming, but I told them Sloane would join us.”

”You’re attending after all?” I asked Sloane, surprised.

”After everything we’ve discussed, absolutely. Someone needs to watch your back,” she replied with determination.

With allies beside me, I steeled myself for the confrontation ahead. Whatever my father had orchestrated, I would protect what mattered most—my future with Lila.