Three-year-old Milo Valenti huddled beneath the family's massive dining table, dressed in dirty, torn clothing while wealthy relatives ate their lavish meal overhead.

His grandmother Vivian, once the family's powerful matriarch, coldly k!cked a dog bowl of cold food scraps toward him.

She sneered that a child who was hungry enough would eat whatever he was given.

Around the table, everyone ate prime steak, and Sophia continued eating without interruption.

Just then, Roman Valenti emerged unexpectedly from the adjoining study.

The powerful M@fia patriarch froze in disbelief when he saw his little son beneath the table, picking scraps from an animal bowl with his bare hands.

Roman quickly moved the closest chair, crouched beside Milo, and carefully helped him stand.

The terrified boy stared at him through tears.

His voice trembled as he asked whether Roman was truly his father.

Something in Roman's expression turned dangerously cold.

Vivian abruptly snatched Milo's untouched dinner plate away, determined to keep it beyond the little boy's reach.

Caroline, Roman's sister, stepped forward and casually dismissed the cruelty, claiming that their mother was merely teaching Milo to behave properly.

Roman slowly took off his jacket.

When Vivian reached toward the child to p*sh him back under the table, Roman immediately pulled her hands away and str*ck her across the face with a powerful open-handed sl@p.

The former matriarch flew backward into a tall silver serving cart, sending it crashing into the wall.

Silver serving domes clattered to the floor, bread baskets overturned, and cutlery scattered across the hardwood.

Furious, Caroline lunged toward Roman and attempted to p*nch him.

The syndicate boss smoothly moved outside her att@ck and drove a devastating counterp*nch across her jaw.

Caroline hurtled backward into the standing wine rack, shattering its wooden dividers and knocking bottles from their slots before collapsing onto the carpet beneath the falling shelves.

Nobody dared speak.

Roman stood above the destroyed furniture and slowly turned his attention toward Vivian.

His jaw tightened as he quietly informed her that because Milo had been forced to eat beneath the dining table, the people responsible would soon be eating on the street.

Vivian's expression turned pale with horror.

Why had a grandmother and an aunt believed they could humiliate a defenseless toddler by feeding him scraps from a dog bowl while treating everyone else to an extravagant dinner?

What seemed like cruel discipline imposed by powerful relatives was actually an unforgivable att@ck against the syndicate's true master.

Someone had believed Roman's son could be treated like an animal without consequences—never imagining that his unexpected return would thr3aten everything they possessed.