Looking up from her books, Bianca dimpled. Liam O’Grady, his big muscled body visible, for he was clad only in his boxers, strolled about, cooing to his son, who looked up at him, unblinkingly.

In his large hands, he held his son, Cian, carefully, like one would handle a piece of fragile glass.

“Look,” cried the Mafia Don in obvious excitement, “He knows his Daid!”

Bianca did an eye roll. She had told her Masters countless times that the baby could not see them, ...