Chapter 7 - The Cleansing of Lakewood
Three days later, Emily and Noah were officially discharged from Metro General Hospital with a clean bill of health.
A convoy of four black armored Escalades pulled up to the main entrance of the hospital. Dominic opened the door of the lead vehicle for Emily, who carried Noah in a heavy cashmere infant carrier.
Instead of driving back to our modest suburban house in Lakewood, the convoy turned east, heading toward the exclusive, gated enclave of Gates Mills—where the most private, luxurious estates in Ohio were hidden behind towering stone walls and private pine forests.
The Escalades pulled through a massive iron gate bearing a silver crest, rolling up a long, winding cobblestone driveway lined with ancient oak trees. At the top of the hill stood a magnificent, three-story Tudor mansion made of hand-cut stone and timber, surrounded by twenty acres of private gardens, a heated indoor pool, and a state-of-the-art security perimeter.
"Vincent..." Emily gasped as the car brought us to a stop in front of the grand entrance. "Where are we?"
"This is the Moretti family estate," I said, stepping out of the vehicle and reaching back to help her out. "My father built it thirty years ago. I closed it down when he died because it felt too empty. But over the last three days, my team completely renovated the nursery wing, installed military-grade air filtration systems, and brought in a top-tier private medical staff."
Ten staff members—led by an older, warm-faced woman named Mrs. Higgins, who had served my father for twenty years—stood in a respectful line near the mahogany front doors, bowing their heads warmly as we approached.
"Welcome home, Mrs. Moretti," Mrs. Higgins said, her eyes brimming with happy tears as she looked at Noah. "Welcome home, young master."
Emily looked around the grand foyer—the soaring timber ceilings, the massive stone fireplace crackling with warm wood, the exquisite oil paintings, and the absolute, pristine security radiating from every corner of the house.
"It's beautiful, Vincent," Emily whispered, tears of joy sparkling in her eyes. "It feels... safe."
"It is the safest place on earth for you and Noah," I promised.
While Mrs. Higgins guided Emily and the pediatric nurses up to the newly prepared nursery suite, I walked down to my father’s old ground-floor study.
Dominic was waiting inside, holding a glass of aged Scotch and a thick black binder.
"The forfeiture of the Vance family assets is complete, Boss," Dominic reported, handing me the binder. "We seized Richard’s real estate holdings, Beatrice’s jewelry collection, and Marcus’s luxury sports cars. Everything was sold off at auction two hours ago."
"And the proceeds?" I asked, taking a sip of the whiskey.
"Four point two million dollars," Dominic replied with a cold grin. "As per your instructions, the entire four point two million has been deposited directly into a irrevocable trust fund set up exclusively for Master Noah’s future education and healthcare."
"Good," I said. "And what about their criminal trial?"
"Richard, Beatrice, and Marcus were denied bail by Federal Judge Vance—no relation, thankfully," Dominic said. "The federal prosecutors are bringing twelve counts of attempted murder, felony poisoning of a minor, and financial fraud. With the evidence Leo provided, they are looking at thirty-five years to life in ADX Florence. They won't see the light of day again."
"And Harrison? Their corrupt lawyer?"
"Harrison surrendered his law license two hours ago and left the state," Dominic said. "He knows that if he ever steps foot in Ohio again, Marco will be waiting for him."
I set my glass down on the heavy mahogany desk, looking out the leaded glass windows at the sun setting over the green hills of Gates Mills.
"Is there any lingering threat from the West Side?" I asked. "Frank Rossi?"
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"Rossi transferred fifty percent of his commercial properties to our logistics division this morning," Dominic confirmed. "He's terrified of you, Boss. He’s telling everyone in the Flats that Vincent Moretti is back, and that anyone who even looks at Lakewood the wrong way will end up at the bottom of Lake Erie."
"Let them talk," I said softly. "Fear is a useful fence. But respect is what keeps the house standing."
