Chapter 9 - The Godfather’s LegacySix months later, the Elm Street mansion looked a little different.
The security gates were still high, but they were now flanked by a newly installed community garden sign that read: "The Brutus & Mila Foundation: Fresh Meals and Fair Rest for Healthcare Heroes."
Inside the sprawling kitchen, the rich, savory smell of slow-cooked pot roast filled the air.
Mila stood at the counter, wearing a comfortable cashmere sweater—courtesy of Victor, though she had insisted on paying him back in monthly installments—as she stirred a massive pot of gravy.
A pair of warm, strong arms wrapped around her waist from behind, and a heavy chin settled comfortably on her shoulder.
"If you burn that gravy," Victor murmured against her ear, "Brutus will launch a formal investigation."
"Brutus is currently asleep on the Persian rug dreaming about stealing neighbor's steaks," Mila laughed, leaning back against Victor’s solid chest. "He’s retired from crime. He’s a philanthropist now."
"A reformed mob boss," Victor corrected, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. "It’s a great character arc."
"It all started because of fourteen dollars and seventy-two cents worth of chuck roast," Mila smiled, turning in his arms to wrap her hands around his neck.
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"The best investments always do," Victor whispered before pulling her into a deep, lingering kiss.
Outside on the manicured lawn, Brutus raised his massive head from his orthopedic bed, cast one slow, approving glance toward the kitchen window, and went back to sleep. The world was at peace, the food was safe, and the Godfather of Elm Street had officially retired undefeated.
