Chapter 11 - The Aftermath
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The armored SUV was quiet. Milo sat in the driver's seat like a stone statue, staring straight ahead at the rain that had begun to fall again. Clara sat in the back, her hands shaking so violently she had to clasp them between her knees.
What had she done?
The wedding was destroyed. The Judge was exposed. The North End would undoubtedly erupt into a mafia war, and she was the one who had lit the match.
Thirty minutes later, the heavy church doors opened.
Raphael walked out. He was alone. His charcoal suit was immaculate, completely unruffled, but there was a dark, wet stain on the pristine white cuff of his shirt. Blood.
He climbed into the back of the SUV, sitting beside Clara. He didn't speak. He simply stared straight ahead as Milo put the car in gear and drove away from the church.
"Are they dead?" Clara whispered, her voice trembling.
Raphael slowly turned his head to look at her. "Judge Moretti and the men on that recording will be spending the rest of their lives in a federal penitentiary. I simply provided the FBI with the evidence you gave me. The Duca family does not murder inside churches, Clara."
He let out a slow, steady breath.
"The wedding is cancelled. The alliance is broken. The docks are secure."
"And Vivian?" she asked.
"Vivian will be moving very far away," Raphael stated coldly.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the old flip phone, handing it back to her.
"You saved my life today, Clara," Raphael said, his voice dropping into that quiet, terrifyingly sincere register. "You saved my empire. Why?"
Clara looked down at the phone. She thought about the lie she could tell. She could say it was for money. She could say it was for revenge against her abuser.
"Because of the chair," Clara whispered.
Raphael frowned slightly. "The chair?"
"In the sewing room," Clara explained, tears finally spilling over her lashes. "You put the little velvet chair there for Noel. You made sure the window wasn't drafty. You knew she was there, and you didn't kick us out."
Raphael stared at her, genuinely shocked. For the first time in his life, his silent acts of kindness had not gone unnoticed.
"She is a beautiful child," Raphael said softly.
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"If you go to prison, I lose my job," Clara cried, the pain in her chest flaring up again. "If I lose my job, Noel starves. I couldn't let them take the house from you."
Suddenly, Clara gasped. She clutched her chest, her vision tunneling. The stress of the day had finally broken her fragile heart. She slumped forward, the darkness rushing in to claim her.
