Chapter 8 - A New Era in the SyndicateThe news of Vincent Romano’s sudden disappearance spread through the underworld like wildfire within forty-eight hours.
Some said he fled to South America. Others whispered that he crossed the wrong people and vanished into the East River. No one outside the inner circle ever knew the truth: that a multi-billion-dollar empire had been saved from total ruin not by guns or tactical squads, but by a three-year-old girl looking for a calico cat.
Down in the estate’s private gardens, the autumn air was crisp and clean.
Lorenzo DeLuca walked slowly along the stone path, his dark overcoat buttoned against the chill. His ribs still ached, and his wrist throbbed beneath the fresh bandages, but for the first time in twenty years, the coldness in his chest felt lighter.
He heard soft footsteps behind him.
He turned.
Emma was running across the grass, chasing Biscotti the cat, laughing as the autumn leaves crunched beneath her little red shoes. Behind her walked Sophia, smiling as she watched her daughter play in the sunlight.
Emma stopped running when she saw Lorenzo. She reached into the pocket of her red corduroy dress and pulled out something shiny.
“Uncle Lorenzo!” she called out, running up to him.
Lorenzo knelt down on one knee—for the second time in his life in front of a child—and brought himself to her eye level.
Emma held out her hand. Resting on her small palm was the broken half of the pink plastic craft scissors, wrapped neatly in a colorful blue ribbon.
“For you,” Emma said seriously. “So you can cut bad strings.”
Lorenzo looked at the broken scissors. He felt a rare, genuine smile spread across his face—a smile that reached his eyes, chasing away the last shadows of the dark cellar.
May you like
He gently took the broken scissors from her hand and tucked them safely into the breast pocket of his coat, right over his heart.
“Thank you, little one,” Lorenzo whispered softly, patting her head. “I’ll keep them safe forever.”
