Chapter 11 - The Westchester Move
The morning sun cast long shadows over the iron gates of the Rinaldi estate as a moving truck idled in the gravel driveway. For the first time in five years, the heavy steel doors stood wide open, not for a getaway or an attack, but for a brand-new beginning.
Marco supervised the movers with the intensity of a four-star general, making sure his box of plastic dinosaurs was loaded first. Nico, meanwhile, was trying to convince the new golden retriever puppy—promptly named Chaos by unanimous vote—to jump into the back of the SUV.
Serena stood on the grand marble porch, a cup of hot coffee in her hand, watching her daughter, Lucia, chase the puppy across the manicured lawn. The sharp, suffocating dread that had defined her life in Brooklyn was gone, replaced by the crisp, clean scent of upstate air and possibility.
Victor stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin softly on her shoulder. The sharp edge of his mafia past was smoothed away by the morning light, leaving only the steady, grounding warmth of a man who had finally found his home.
“You’re quiet this morning,” Victor murmured, his breath warm against her neck.
“Just realizing I traded thirty-six dollars and a broken apartment for a billionaire mafia boss, four wild boys, a golden retriever, and a house in Westchester,” Serena smiled, leaning back into his embrace. “My therapist would have a field day with this.”
“Tell her our rates are competitive,” Victor chuckled, kissing her cheek. “The convoy is ready. Are you ready to see our new house?”
May you like
Serena took one last look at the towering gothic mansion that had once terrified her, then turned around, linking her fingers with his.
“Lead the way, Mr. Rinaldi.”
