Chapter 9 - The New Master of Federal Hill
Two weeks later.
The storm had passed, leaving Providence under a crisp, brilliant blue autumn sky.
The news of Salvatore Moretti’s arrest and the exposure of his corruption had shattered the rival families across New England. The Romano family stood stronger, cleaner, and more unified than ever before.
In the grand dining room of the estate, the long twenty-man table was bathed in warm afternoon sunlight.
I sat at the head of the table.
Maid Isabella was gone—sentenced to ten years in a state penitentiary for her role in the poison plot.
Across from me, sitting at the table on a high chair, was little Emma.
She was wearing a beautiful new blue dress with polished black shoes, her brown hair tied back with a silk ribbon. Sitting beside her was her mother, Sophia, who was now dressed in elegant civilian clothes, her face radiant and free of the worry that had plagued her for years.
In front of Emma was a massive silver plate filled with fresh pastries, chocolate croissants, and a small porcelain bowl of strawberries.
“Do you like the pastries, Emma?” I asked, a warm, rare smile touching my lips.
Emma took a giant bite of a chocolate croissant, getting a smudge of dark chocolate on her cheek.
“It’s the best breakfast in the whole world, Don Gabriel!” she cheered happily, holding up her doll Rosie. “Rosie likes the strawberries!”
Sophia looked across the table at me, her eyes glistening with deep emotion. “Gabriel… I still don't know how to thank you for everything you’ve done for us. Moving us into the west wing… paying for Emma’s private school tuition…”
“You don't need to thank me, Sophia,” I said softly, taking a sip of my morning espresso. “Emma saved my life. Everything I have in this house is useless if it cannot protect the people who are honest and true.”
I looked at the small porcelain butter dish sitting in the center of the table—a new one, simple and clean, without any poison or secrets.
I reached out, took a slice of bread, spread a bit of butter across it, and took a bite.
May you like
It tasted ordinary.
And for the first time in thirty-eight years, ordinary tasted like freedom.
