Chapter 11 - AN UNEXPECTED SUNDAY|
Summer arrived in Chicago with humid air and bright sunshine.
For the first time in seventeen years, Vincent Torino spent a Sunday afternoon somewhere other than his dark office or a private cigar lounge. He was sitting on a tiny wooden stool in the tiny kitchen behind Elena’s Flowers, holding a small plastic teacup.
"More tea, Mr. Vincent?" Sophie asked solemnly, wielding a tiny pink teapot.
"Yes, please, Sophie," Vincent said with absolute seriousness. "Two sugars."
In the corner, Nurse Rosa—who had transitioned from night nurse to the family’s live-in assistant—was chopping fresh basil, struggling desperately to suppress her laughter.
"Don Torino, drinking imaginary tea," Rosa smirked. "If the mob bosses in New York could see you now, they'd take over Chicago by Tuesday."
"Let them try," Vincent replied smoothly, taking a fake sip. "The tea is excellent, chef."
Elena walked into the kitchen, wearing a yellow sundress, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail. She looked healthier now; the colour had returned to her cheeks, though a tiny scar remained near her left temple.
She watched Vincent interacting with her daughter. The sight was mind-boggling—a giant, lethal man who commanded a criminal empire, sitting awkwardly on a child's stool, being completely commanded by a seven-year-old.
"You don't have to keep coming here, Vincent," Elena said softy, leaning against the doorframe. "The trial is over. Razer is in prison. We're safe."
Vincent set the tiny teacup down. He looked at Elena, his expression unreadable.
"Are you asking me to leave?" he asked quietly.
May you like
Elena paused, looking at her daughter's happy face, then back at Vincent's tired, guarded eyes.
"No," she admitted, her voice barely audible. "I'm not."
