Chapter 9 - THE PROMISE
The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound in the private hospital suite.
I sat in the uncomfortable leather chair, staring out the window at the Chicago skyline. It had been four days since the night at the bank. Four days of police statements, FBI interrogations, and waiting in sterile hallways.
The Vane family empire was completely dismantled. The ledger had provided enough evidence to lock Celeste and her father away for consecutive life sentences. Gilbert had rolled on everyone to save his own skin, and Marco was in federal custody.
But none of that mattered to me.
I looked down at my hands. I wasn't wearing my cheap waitress uniform anymore. I wore a soft cashmere sweater Lorenzo's men had brought me from his estate. Dante and two other loyal capos were standing guard outside the door, treating me with a quiet, absolute reverence.
"You're hovering."
The raspy voice made me jump. I spun around.
Lorenzo was awake. He was pale, propped up against the white pillows, but his dark eyes were alert and locked on me.
"You're awake," I breathed, rushing to the side of the bed. I hesitated, not wanting to hurt him, but he reached out, his warm hand wrapping firmly around mine.
"I told you I keep my promises," he said, offering a weak but genuine smile.
"You almost died," I said, a tear escaping my eye. "You took a bullet for me."
"I would take a thousand more," he said quietly, the intensity in his voice leaving absolutely no room for doubt. He squeezed my hand. "The Feds?"
"They have everything. Celeste is gone. Your family's name is clear. And..." I swallowed hard, smiling through my tears. "The FBI released a public statement. They exonerated Thomas Carter. They called him a hero."
Lorenzo let out a long, shuddering breath, as if a twelve-year weight had finally lifted off his chest. "He was. And he raised a hell of a daughter."
He gently tugged my hand until I sat on the edge of his bed.
"I have a proposition for you, Evelyn," he said, his thumb tracing the back of my knuckles.
"I'm not working at your restaurants," I teased softly, wiping my eyes.
"I'm selling the restaurants," Lorenzo said.
I blinked in shock. "What?"
"The illegal businesses, the clubs, the territories. I'm restructuring. Going completely legitimate. Real estate, shipping, clean money. I'm done with the ghosts," he said, looking deeply into my eyes. "But I need someone I can trust to help me build it. Someone who isn't afraid to tell me when I'm wrong. Someone who can handle a crisis with a cocktail napkin."
I laughed, a bright, genuine sound I hadn't made in years.
"And," Lorenzo added, his voice dropping to a softer, more vulnerable register, "I want to move Aunt Clara into the guest wing of my estate. We have nurses. She'll have the best care in the world. She'll be safe. You'll be safe."
I stared at him, my heart swelling until I thought it might burst. For twelve years, I had survived. Just survived. Fighting the cold, fighting the debt, fighting the loneliness.
Looking at Lorenzo, I realized I didn't have to fight anymore.
"Okay," I whispered.
"Okay?" he smiled, pulling me down slightly.
"Okay," I repeated, leaning in.
May you like
When our lips met, it wasn't the frantic, desperate energy of the night we met. It was warm. It was steady. It was the feeling of finally, truly, coming home.
Outside the window, the winter sun broke through the Chicago clouds, casting a golden light over the city. The past was buried. And for the first time in my life, I couldn't wait for tomorrow.
