Chapter 8 - THE ASHES OF EMPIRE
The flashing red and blue lights of the police cruisers painted the harbor in frantic colors.
Luca didn’t run. He sat on the tailgate of the armored SUV, letting the paramedics bandage his shoulder. Mia sat next to him, a heavy wool blanket draped over her shoulders, with little Leo fast asleep in her lap. The boy was clutching Luca’s ruined tuxedo jacket like a security blanket.
Domenico Moretti stepped out of the shadows, leaning heavily on his cane. He looked at the police cars swarming Isabella’s body, then at his son.
“The book is gone,” the old man said, his voice devoid of emotion.
“It’s at the bottom of the bay,” Luca replied, wincing as the paramedic tightened the bandage.
“You understand what this means?” Domenico asked. “Without that ledger, we can’t control the docks. We can’t control the unions. We are just civilians now.”
“Good,” Luca said, meeting his father’s eyes.
Domenico stared at him for a long, heavy moment. For fifteen years, he had hidden in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to return and reclaim his throne. He had expected his son to hand it back to him with a bow.
Instead, his son had burned the throne to the ground.
Domenico looked at Mia, then at the sleeping child. Slowly, the old mafia don nodded.
“I faked my death to protect you from Victor,” Domenico said softly. “I thought I was giving you an empire. I didn’t realize I was giving you a prison sentence.”
The old man reached into his coat pocket. He pulled out a thick envelope and tossed it onto Luca’s lap.
“What is this?” Luca asked.
“The deeds to the vineyard in Tuscany,” Domenico said. “Clean money. In your mother’s name. It was supposed to be a wedding gift.” He looked pointedly at Isabella’s distant body. “I suppose the bride has changed.”
Luca looked at the envelope. He handed it to Mia.
“I don’t want it,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “I’m just a waitress, Luca. I don’t want mafia money.”
“It’s not mafia money,” Domenico corrected, a faint smile touching his scarred lips. “It grows grapes. The only thing you crush is fruit, not people. Take it. Consider it back pay for keeping my rosary safe.”
Elias stepped up, handing Domenico an umbrella. “The commissioner is walking this way, boss. We should disappear.”
Domenico nodded. He reached out, his weathered hand gently patting little Leo’s head.
“He has your spirit, Mia,” the old man said. Then, he looked at Luca. “Be a better father to him than I was to you.”
With that, Domenico Moretti turned and walked into the rainy night, Elias flanking him like a shadow. They vanished into the dark, ghosts once again.
The police commissioner approached, flashing his badge. He looked at Luca, then at the dead woman on the pier.
“Mr. Moretti,” the commissioner said gruffly. “Care to explain why your fiancée is dead on my pier with a sniper bullet in her chest?”
Luca stood up slowly. He didn’t reach for a lawyer. He didn’t offer a bribe.
“Self-defense, Commissioner,” Luca said calmly. “She kidnapped this woman’s child and tried to kill me. Victor Salerno put her up to it. You’ll find his body in the cellar of my hotel.”
The commissioner’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re admitting to having a dead body in your hotel?”
“I’m admitting I found one,” Luca corrected. “I’m fully cooperating with your investigation. In fact, I’m retiring from my current business ventures. Effective immediately.”
The commissioner squinted, trying to find the lie. Finding none, he sighed and motioned for a detective to take their statements.
Two hours later, as the dawn broke grey and cold over the city, Luca and Mia were finally allowed to leave.
They sat in the back of a black sedan, driving away from the harbor, away from the hotel, away from the life Luca had known.
Leo woke up, rubbing his eyes. He looked up at Luca.
“Are you a policeman?” the little boy asked quietly.
Luca smiled, a genuine, warm smile. “No, Leo. I’m just a guy.”
“You saved my mommy,” Leo said, leaning his head against Luca’s good shoulder. “That makes you the good guy.”
Mia reached across the seat, intertwining her fingers with Luca’s. Her thumb brushed against the heavy gold signet ring he had given her in the cellar.
“What happens now?” Mia asked softly.
May you like
Luca looked out the window. The city skyline was shrinking behind them, replaced by the open highway heading out toward the countryside.
“Now,” Luca said, squeezing her hand, “we finally get to live.”
