Chapter 9 - THE DAWN OF JUSTICE
I stared at David through the glass. My hands shook, hovering over the locks.
"Mommy, who is that?" Leo asked from the back seat.
"Just a bad man, baby. Keep your eyes closed."
David slammed the gun against the window, cracking it. "Open the door!"
I looked around frantically. There was nowhere to run. I shifted the car into reverse, ready to ram the SUV, but before my foot hit the gas, the back door of the restaurant burst open.
Roman stepped out. He wasn't limping anymore. He stood tall, the blood loss seemingly forgotten in a surge of pure, lethal adrenaline.
In his left hand, he held my bloodstained apron. In his right, he held a sleek black handgun.
"Drop it, David," Roman commanded.
David spun around, pointing his gun at Roman. "Vance will kill me if I don't bring him the boy!"
"Vance is already dead," a new voice boomed from the darkness.
From the shadows of the alley emerged Marcus. His arm was in a makeshift sling, his face bruised, but he was very much alive. Behind him were flashing red and blue lights—not local police, but black FBI cruisers silently flooding the street.
Marcus smiled grimly. "Turns out Vance's corrupt cops didn't expect federal agents to be waiting for them at the estate. We caught them all. Vance is in cuffs."
David dropped his gun. He fell to his knees, sobbing. Marcus walked over, kicked the gun away, and zip-tied David's wrists.
I threw open the car door and ran to Roman.
He dropped the gun and leaned against the brick wall, the adrenaline finally leaving him. He slid down until he was sitting on the wet pavement.
"You got the drive?" I asked, kneeling beside him.
He held up the bloody apron. "It was right where you left it."
"And the feds?"
"I called them from the car," Roman admitted, offering a weak, exhausted smile. "I've been working with them to build the case against Vance. The drive was the final piece."
I let out a breath I felt like I had been holding for three years.
---
Six Months Later
The morning sun poured through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows of my new kitchen. The stainless steel gleamed. The smell of fresh brioche and roasting coffee filled the air.
I wiped my hands on my pristine white apron—clean this time—and walked out into the dining room.
"The Oak & Wolf" was already booked solid for its opening night. It wasn't just a restaurant; it was mine. Fully owned, fully funded, with no debts and no shadows.
The front door chimed.
Roman walked in. He looked completely different from the dying man in the alley. He wore a sharp navy suit, moving with strength and grace.
Beside him, holding his hand, was Leo.
"Mommy!" Leo dropped Roman's hand and sprinted toward me. I scooped him up, spinning him around. He was healthy, vibrant, and no longer frightened by shadows in the dark.
"How was the museum?" I asked, kissing his cheek.
"Roman bought me a real dinosaur tooth!" Leo beamed, holding up a small glass case.
I looked at Roman, raising an eyebrow. "You're going to spoil him."
"He deserves it," Roman said softly, walking over to us. He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His touch was warm, gentle, and safe. "You both do."
May you like
I looked around the beautiful restaurant, then down at my son, and finally at the man who had changed our lives.
The debt was paid. The secrets were buried. We were finally, truly home.
