Chapter 8 - THE GHOST OF CHICAGO
Two weeks later.
The scent of fresh soil and blooming hydrangeas filled the air of Ivy’s flower shop. It was a peaceful morning, the sunlight streaming through the large glass windows, catching the dust motes in the air.
Lily was sitting behind the counter, humming happily as she colored a picture with her crayons.
It should have been perfect.
But Ivy felt dead inside.
She had gone to the lawyer. She had handed over the SD card. The lawyer, a sharp, unyielding woman named Elena, had used the ledger to systematically dismantle the Falcone syndicate and Vincent’s loyalists, handing the evidence anonymously to the FBI. The mafia war was over. The bad men were in prison or dead.
Elena had also set up a blind trust for Ivy. The twenty thousand dollars Dante promised her had been deposited. Her shop was saved. Lily was safe.
But Dante was gone.
Ivy stared blankly at a bucket of white Avalanche roses. Every time she looked at them, she was back under that altar, staring at his polished shoes. She touched her lips, remembering the taste of his blood and the desperate heat of his final kiss.
The bell above the shop door chimed.
"We're closed," Ivy said without turning around, snapping a thorn off a stem.
"That’s a terrible way to run a business," a deep, raspy voice replied.
Ivy froze. The rose stem slipped from her fingers, dropping to the floor.
She turned around slowly, her heart slamming against her ribs.
Standing in the doorway, leaning heavily on a black cane, was Dante Russo.
He was paler than before. He wore a simple black sweater and dark jeans, lacking the terrifying armor of his bespoke suits. But his eyes—those dark, lethal, beautiful eyes—were fixed entirely on her.
"You..." Ivy choked out, her legs giving way. She grabbed the counter to steady herself. "I saw them... I saw them pull the sheet over your head."
Dante smiled a slow, crooked smile. "I told you Marco said not to trust the precinct. I had loyal paramedics planted in the city's dispatch. The sheet was a prop. The world needed Dante Russo to be dead so the FBI could clean up my uncle and the Falcones without me taking the fall."
Ivy couldn't breathe. "You're alive."
"Barely," he admitted, tapping his cane. "Turns out, taking a bullet for a florist leaves a mark."
Lily looked up from her coloring book. She stared at Dante, then jumped off her stool and ran around the counter.
"You’re the man who saved me!" Lily squeaked, throwing her arms around Dante’s legs.
Dante stiffened, clearly unaccustomed to being hugged by children. But slowly, gently, he rested his large hand on Lily’s head. "You’ve got a brave aunt, kid."
Ivy walked around the counter, tears streaming down her face. She stopped inches from him. She didn't know whether to hit him or kiss him.
She chose both.
She slapped his chest lightly, then threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. Dante groaned softly at the impact, but his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against him. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in the scent of her.
"You scared me to death," she sobbed into his sweater.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "I had to let you think I was gone until the heat died down. It was the only way to keep you safe."
He pulled back slightly, looking down into her eyes.
"There is no more syndicate, Ivy," Dante said quietly. "Vincent is in federal prison. Enzo is dead. I gave the ledger to the Feds in exchange for full immunity. The empire is gone. I’m just a man now."
Ivy looked at him, her heart swelling with an emotion so powerful it threatened to crack her chest wide open. The ruthless mob boss had burned his own throne to the ground, just to stand in a flower shop with her.
"Just a man?" Ivy whispered, a watery smile breaking through her tears.
Dante reached into his pocket and pulled out the broken red rose she had snapped under the altar. It was dried and preserved, encased in a small glass pendant.
"Just a man," Dante promised, placing the pendant in her palm, "who owes you his life. And intends to spend the rest of it paying you back."
May you like
He kissed her, right there in the sunlight, surrounded by flowers. And for the first time in his life, Dante Russo wasn't surrounded by the scent of death, but by the promise of life.
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