Chapter 10 - A New EmpireBy 6:00 a.m., the New York sun was beginning to break through the gray clouds, casting a golden light across the shattered windows, the bullet-riddled walls, and the blood-stained floor of my diner.
The black town cars were gone. Salvatore and Marco were tied up in the trunk of one of the vehicles, headed for an indefinite, permanent vacation at the bottom of the Atlantic.
Only Dante Moretti and old Don Joe remained inside the diner, sitting quietly in a corner booth that hadn't been completely destroyed.
I stood behind the counter, sweeping up glass into a dustpan, my face bruised slightly from the chaos, my hands steady.
Dante walked over, holding a thick, leather-bound folder and a fresh cup of coffee that Joe had poured. He placed the folder on the counter right in front of me.
"What's this?" I asked, not looking up from my broom.
"The deed to this building," Dante said quietly, his voice carrying a rare, genuine warmth. "Free and clear. Plus the title to the entire block, and a certified check to cover every single dollar of renovations you need to rebuild this place."
I stopped sweeping. I looked up at him, then down at the folder. "Why? Because you feel guilty about turning my diner into a war zone?"
"Because you saved my life," Dante replied, offering a faint, tired smile. "And because New York's underworld needs someone who actually knows how to run things with a cool head and a steady hand." Dante slid a small business card across the counter beside the platinum signet ring. "Joe is stepping down for good. The North River syndicate needs a new partner. Someone who speaks Italian, doesn't scare easily, and knows how to handle a crisis."
I stared at the card. It had no name—just an address in Manhattan and a direct phone line.
"I'm a waitress," I said, though my heart was beating faster than normal.
"You were a waitress," Dante corrected gently, tipping his head toward the door as the morning rush of commuters began to walk past the broken windows, completely ignoring the chaos inside, just like they always did. "Now, you're the most dangerous woman in New York."
I looked at the ring, picked it up, and slid it onto my right ring finger. It fit perfectly.
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"Tell your men to bring me fresh building materials by noon," I said, picking up my coffee cup and taking a sip. "And if they track mud on my clean floors, I'll shoot them myself."
Dante laughed, a rich, genuine sound that finally chased the shadows out of the diner. "Consider
