Chapter 10 - The New Foundation
Two weeks later, the Westchester estate looked different. The guards at the gates were doubled, the surveillance systems were upgraded to military-grade specs, and the industrial kitchens operated with biometric double-checks on every ingredient that crossed the threshold.
But inside the sprawling halls, there was a warmth that hadn't existed in the six years I had worked there.
In the private courtyard garden, eight-year-old Ethan sat on a wooden bench, carefully teaching a three-year-old girl how to paint miniature wooden ducks. Lily’s white sneakers were stained with green grass and blue watercolor paint, her infectious laughter echoing off the stone walls of the mansion.
I stood on the second-floor balcony, holding a steaming cup of black coffee, watching them through the wrought-iron railing.
Footsteps approached from behind, steady and familiar.
“She’s going to turn my son into an artist instead of a successor,” Dominic said, leaning against the railing beside me. He was wearing a simple black shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, looking more like a man and less like a phantom of the underworld.
“Artists live longer than mafia bosses,” I pointed out, taking a sip of my coffee.
Dominic chuckled, a low, genuine sound that I had rarely heard in all the years I served in his home. He pulled a slim, leather-bound envelope from his jacket and placed it on the small glass table between us.
“The Zurich file,” he said quietly. “Names, dates, wire transfers. The federal prosecutor who took the bribe is now a federal judge in D.C. The man who leaked your father’s route is retired in Florida.”
I stared at the envelope, my fingers resting on the smooth leather. For six years, this was all I had ever wanted. The truth. The names. The weapon to strike back.
Slowly, I pushed the envelope back across the table toward him.
“Keep it in the vault,” I said.
Dominic raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Why? This is everything you came here for.”
“No,” I said, looking down at Lily below, who had just managed to smear blue paint across Ethan’s nose, making the solemn boy burst into bright, unfiltered laughter. “I came here looking for revenge. But revenge is just a ghost story people tell themselves to survive the dark.”
I turned my gaze back to Dominic, meeting his steady, intense eyes without flinching.
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“My father didn't die so I could spend the rest of my life hunting monsters. He died so we could build something safe out of the wreckage.” I offered him a small, genuine smile. “Besides... someone has to make sure your estate runs smoothly. You’re terrible at managing the housekeeping staff.”
Dominic stared at me for a long, silent moment. Then, for the very first time since I had met him, a true, warm smile broke across his face—transforming the most feared mafia boss in New York into simply a man standing beside a woman who had finally found her way home.
