Chapter 5 - A New Foundation
Six months later, the sweltering heat of the Brooklyn summer radiated off the pavement outside my father's newly renovated house.
I sat on the front porch, sipping a glass of iced tea, watching my father meticulously sand down a wooden birdhouse. He moved a little slower these days, and there was a faint stiffness in his left shoulder where the bullet had caused permanent nerve damage, but he was alive. He was smiling. He was safe.
He didn't know the full details of what happened at the Christmas party. He only knew that Nico and I had a "bad falling out" and that the Casaro boy was no longer in the country. He also knew that his mortgage had mysteriously been paid off in full, and a completely anonymous trust had been established in his name to cover any future medical expenses. He suspected Leo was behind it, but like a true man of honor, he never asked questions.
A sleek, black town car pulled up to the curb. The tinted window rolled down, revealing the sharp, composed face of Leo Casaro.
I stood up, walked down the porch steps, and leaned down to the window.
"Good morning, Myra," Leo said, offering a rare, genuine smile. "I just received the quarterly reports for the new legitimate logistics company we launched. The one you are managing."
After the disaster of the Christmas party, Leo hadn't just protected me; he had empowered me. Recognizing my intelligence and my absolute refusal to be intimidated, he had offered me a job running the completely legal, clean side of his shipping enterprises. I was making more money in a month than I used to make in a year, and I answered to no one but the Don himself.
"The profit margins are up twenty percent, Leo," I replied confidently. "We streamlined the union contracts and cut the overhead by identifying two redundant supply chains."
Leo nodded, thoroughly impressed. "You have a brilliant mind, Myra. Your father raised a lion." He paused, looking past me to where my father was working on the porch. "Is he well?"
"He's happy," I said softly. "That's all that matters."
"Nico called yesterday," Leo mentioned casually, though his eyes watched my reaction closely. "He's miserable in Sicily. The manual labor is breaking him. He asked if he could come home."
I didn't feel a spike of anger. I didn't feel sadness. I felt absolutely nothing for the boy who had tried to buy my dignity.
"And what did you tell him?" I asked.
"I told him the same thing I tell anyone who breaks a blood debt," Leo replied, his voice devoid of warmth. "I told him the debt is not yet paid. He stays."
May you like
Leo rolled the window up, and the town car glided smoothly away from the curb. I walked back up the porch steps, taking a seat beside my father. The red silk dress was long gone, donated to a charity shop. I was no longer waiting for a savior, because I had finally realized I was entirely capable of saving myself.
Would you like to explore a story about how Myra navigates her new, dangerous corporate alliance with the mob boss, or prefer a completely different dramatic scenario?
