Chapter 8 - THE RECKONING
“Nobody touches Eleanor’s kids.”
Marco Rossi slumped against the wet brick wall, his chest heaving as the suppressed pistol slipped from his fingers. The old mafia boss had used the last ounce of his strength to protect the boy he had raised, shooting the woman who had orchestrated his own downfall.
Aunt Frances collapsed onto the wet pavement, crying out in pain as she clutched her bleeding shoulder. Her elegant facade had completely evaporated, leaving only a pathetic, desperate old woman in the rain.
Dominic didn't waste a second. He kicked Frances’s silver revolver away, then scooped up the gun I had kicked out of the train. He leveled it at Charles, who was stumbling out of the sleeper car, clutching his shattered wrist.
“On your knees, Charles,” Dominic roared, the fury of a betrayed son finally unleashed.
Charles dropped to his knees in the puddles, weeping openly. “Dominic, please. She made me do it. She threatened my daughters.”
“You’re a coward,” Dominic spat. “You sold out my father, you tried to steal my brother, and you pointed a gun at a woman who scrubs your floors. You’re done.”
Within seconds, the screech of tires echoed through the station as three more SUVs arrived. Dominic’s loyal men poured out, weapons drawn.
“Secure them both,” Dominic ordered, pointing at Charles and Frances. “Bind their wounds. Lock them in the basement of the Southside warehouse. They’ll face the syndicate council tomorrow.”
Two massive enforcers hauled the screaming attorney and the groaning aunt away, shoving them into the back of a vehicle.
I unlocked the compartment door and stepped out of the train, holding Leo’s hand tightly. The twelve-year-old boy was shaking like a leaf, staring at the chaotic scene.
Dominic turned toward us. The lethal boss vanished, replaced instantly by an older brother. He holstered the gun and dropped to one knee on the wet concrete, ignoring the rain soaking through his tailored suit.
He looked at Leo. He reached out slowly, giving the boy a chance to pull away. Leo didn't.
Dominic gently touched the boy’s cheek. “You’re safe now, Leo. Nobody is ever going to hurt you again.”
Leo looked at him with wide, tearful eyes. “Are you my brother?”
Dominic swallowed hard, his eyes shining. “I am. And I’m going to take you home.”
Answer one: The betrayal is fully rooted out. Frances and Charles are captured, and Leo is safe. Open two: What happens to Rossi, the man who raised Leo, and how do they fix the damage done to Marion?
Leo turned his head and saw Marco Rossi slouched against the wall, surrounded by Dominic’s men. The boy let out a tragic cry and pulled away from Dominic, running across the puddles.
“Papa!” Leo cried, throwing his arms around the bleeding man’s neck.
Rossi winced, but wrapped a weak arm around the boy. He looked up at Dominic, who had walked over to stand above them.
The tension was suffocating. Rossi had pulled the trigger that killed Dominic’s father. Frances had orchestrated it, but Rossi’s hands were covered in blood. By all the laws of their world, Dominic had to kill him.
The reversal came from the boss himself.
Dominic looked at the dying man who had just saved his life, and the boy who loved him.
“Get a medic!” Dominic barked to his men. “Get him to the private clinic. Now.”
Rossi coughed, shaking his head. “It’s too late for me, Dominic. The cancer… the bullet… I’m done.”
“You kept him safe for twelve years,” Dominic said quietly, kneeling beside his father’s killer. “My mother trusted you. You honored her deal. I’ll honor it, too. You die in a bed, Marco. Not on the concrete.”
Rossi gave a weak, bloody nod. He kissed the top of Leo’s head. “Be good for your brother, kid. You’re a Romano now.”
The medics loaded Rossi onto a stretcher and rushed him to an SUV. Leo watched him go, tears streaming down his face.
Dominic stood up and walked over to me. I was shivering, my apron soaked with rain and grease from the train floor.
“Claire,” Dominic said. He didn't speak to me like a boss to a maid. He spoke to me with absolute reverence. “You saved my brother’s life tonight. You saved this family.”
“I just did what Mrs. Fletcher asked me to do,” I whispered.
At the mention of Marion, Dominic’s face hardened with a new resolve.
“Let’s go home,” Dominic said. “There’s one last piece of trash to take out.”
We drove back to the estate in silence. The storm began to break as we pulled through the wrought-iron gates.
When we walked through the front doors, the grand foyer was quiet. The dinner guests had long since fled.
But Victoria was still there.
She was standing near the staircase, clutching a packed designer suitcase, frantically typing on her phone. She froze when she saw Dominic walk through the door, soaking wet, holding Leo’s hand, with me right behind them.
“Dominic,” Victoria gasped, dropping her phone. She looked at the boy, then back at her fiancé. “You found him. Thank God.”
She tried to rush forward to embrace him, but Dominic held up a hand, stopping her dead in her tracks.
“Save it, Victoria,” Dominic said, his voice echoing in the marble hall. “I know everything. Charles and Frances are sitting in a cellar. Rossi is in the hospital. The coup is over.”
Victoria’s lip trembled. “Dominic, please. I only helped Charles because I was scared! They threatened me! I love you!”
The cliffhanger wasn't a sudden act of violence. It was the quiet, dignified footsteps approaching from the hallway.
Marion Fletcher emerged from the shadows. She was still wearing her simple dress, but she held her head high.
Dominic looked at Victoria, entirely devoid of emotion.
“You didn't just lie to me,” Dominic said. “You humiliated a woman who gave thirty-four years of her life to this family. You tried to steal the last gift my mother gave her. You tried to strip her of her dignity.”
Dominic gestured to the front door.
“Leave the bag,” Dominic commanded.
May you like
Victoria stared at him. “What?”
“The clothes, the jewelry, the suitcase. I paid for all of it,” Dominic said coldly. “You leave with exactly what you brought into this house. Nothing. Walk out that door right now, Victoria, or I’ll let Marion call the police and have you arrested for the theft of her brooch.”
