“MISTER… MAY I EAT WITH YOU?” MY HOUSEKEEPER’S FOUR-YEAR-OLD ASKED TO SIT IN MY DEAD DAUGHTER’S CHAIR—THEN HER FATHER’S PENDANT EXPOSED THE MAN WHO HAD BEEN BESIDE ME FOR TEN YEARS

A week passed.

The tribunal had been swift. Julian’s confession had sealed his fate. He was executed quietly by the council, his body disposed of in a way that ensured he would never be found. The Southside port contracts were dissolved, and I formally reorganized the Romano family to focus purely on legitimate enterprises. No more blood. No more shadows.

But the estate was still empty.

Maya had packed her bags. She stood in the grand foyer, holding two small suitcases. Sophie stood beside her, wearing a little yellow raincoat and holding her cloth doll.

I walked down the grand staircase, my heart sinking at the sight of their luggage.

“You’re leaving,” I said, stating the obvious.

Maya looked at me, her eyes full of complex emotions—gratitude, fear, and a lingering sadness. “You saved our lives, Mr. Romano. You avenged my husband. I will owe you my life until the day I die. But… this world. Your world. I can’t raise Sophie in it. I can't have her sleeping in a panic room.”

I stopped at the bottom of the stairs. She was right. I was a mafia boss. I had blood on my hands. I was no saint. But the thought of this house returning to its dead, echoing silence was suddenly unbearable.

“I understand,” I said quietly. I reached into my jacket and pulled out a thick envelope. “This is a trust fund for Sophie. It’s enough to buy a house anywhere in the country, pay for her college, and ensure you never have to work a day in your life unless you want to.”

Maya stared at the envelope, shaking her head. “I can’t take your money.”

“It’s not my money,” I lied smoothly. “It’s what was stolen from David. It’s restitution. Take it, Maya. Please. Let me do this one good thing.”

Reluctantly, Maya took the envelope, her eyes filling with tears. “Thank you, Leo.”

It was the first time she had used my first name. It felt warm.

Sophie let go of her mother’s hand, walked over to me, and wrapped her small arms around my legs in a tight hug. “Bye, Mister Leo. Thank you for making the bad men go away.”

I knelt down and hugged her back, burying my face in her dark curls for just a second. “Goodbye, Sophie. Be good for your mother.”

I stood up and watched them walk out the front doors to the waiting car. The doors clicked shut. The house plunged back into silence. I walked into the dining room, looking at the long, empty table.

For the first time, I walked over to the oak cabinet. I picked up the silver frame that had been lying face down for two years.

It was a picture of Elena and Sophia, smiling brightly on a beach in Positano.

I didn't cry. I smiled. I placed the frame upright, standing it proudly in the center of the cabinet.