Chapter 10 - The New Foundation
Six months later, the iron gates of the Providence estate were still black and imposing, but the mausoleum with staff had transformed into something else entirely.
The gardens were green and trimmed. The heavy velvet curtains had been pulled back to let the sunlight flood every corner of the stone halls.
On a bright spring afternoon, Salvatore Ferraro sat in his modified all-terrain wheelchair on the wide stone veranda overlooking the city. He wore a clean white linen shirt, his shoulders broad and powerful, his jaw set with a quiet, enduring dignity.
Across the wide slate patio, Milo chased a red rubber ball across the grass, his bright laughter ringing out like music against the old stone walls.
Nadia stepped out through the French doors, carrying a tray with two glasses of iced lemonade. She wore a soft yellow summer dress, her hair pinned back loosely, looking like a woman who finally knew what it meant to be safe.
She walked over, set the tray on the small iron table beside Salvatore, and handed him a glass.
“He’s getting too fast,” Nadia said with a warm, easy smile, watching her son run. “I think he’s going to wear me out before he starts kindergarten.”
Salvatore took the glass, his fingers brushing hers for a fraction of a second. A faint, genuine smile touched the corners of his lips—the kind of smile the old Wolf of Providence had never allowed himself to wear.
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“Let him run,” Salvatore said, his deep voice rich with quiet strength. “He’s got a lot of ground to make up for.”
He looked down at his lap. Resting right beside his hand, polished and cared for, was the little wooden soldier with the chipped paint—standing tall, saluting the sun, guarding a home that had finally found its peace.
