Chapter 8 - Rebuilding the Broken
Two weeks later.
The high-profile downfall of political titan Arthur Shaw dominated every newspaper and television station in the state. The Shaw political machine had collapsed overnight under the weight of federal corruption, wire fraud, and bribery charges.
Evelyn had fled to Europe in disgrace. Marcus Vance had disappeared entirely into the dark underbelly of the syndicate's justice system.
The Moretti family operations were cleaner, stronger, and more unified than ever under my absolute command.
But none of that mattered to me when I pulled my car up to the curb of the house on Maple Street on a warm Friday afternoon.
I was dressed casually—a simple dark sweater, dark jeans, no bodyguards in sight. I walked up the porch steps and knocked gently on the door.
Nia opened it.
She was wearing a yellow summer dress, her dark hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders. For the first time in five years, the heavy shadow of worry had vanished from her eyes. She looked relaxed, beautiful, and whole.
"Hey," she said softly, a genuine smile lighting up her face.
"Hey," I replied, holding up two large white cardboard boxes. "I brought pizza. Pepperoni for Mateo, cheese for Leo."
"You remembered," she smiled, stepping aside to let me in.
"I remember everything," I said quietly, looking directly into her eyes as I passed her in the hallway.
In the backyard, the afternoon sun cast a warm golden light across the green lawn. Mateo and Leo were kicking a small soccer ball back and forth, their energetic laughter filling the air.
When they saw me walk out onto the back patio, both boys stopped.
"Luca!" Leo shouted, dropping the ball and sprinting across the grass with his small arms open.
My heart swelled to three times its size. I dropped the pizza boxes onto the patio table and dropped down onto one knee, catching Leo as he crashed into my chest, lifting him up into a high hug. Mateo wasn't far behind, throwing his small arms around my neck from the side.
"Did you bring the pizza?!" Mateo cheered into my ear.
"I brought the best pizza in Chicago," I laughed, pressing a deep kiss into the top of Mateo’s messy hair, then Leo’s. "And after pizza, if your mom says it's okay, I have two new bicycles in the back of my truck."
"BICYCLES?!" both boys screamed in unison, practically vibrating with excitement.
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Nia stood near the back door, leaning against the wooden frame, watching the three of us with tears glittering in her hazel eyes. But this time, they were not tears of pain or fear.
They were tears of hope.
