Chapter 17 - THE NEW RULE|
One month later.
The city had returned to a fragile peace. The Moretti syndicate was entirely dismantled, its assets seized or absorbed into Dominic's legitimate logistics empire. Chloe Marlow was serving a twenty-year sentence in a maximum-security federal facility with no possibility of parole.
At the Brooklyn brownstone, Nora sat on the front porch sipping tea in the crisp autumn air.
Her father, looking healthier than he had in five years, was tending to the small flower garden in the front yard.
A long, sleek Maybach pulled up to the curb.
Dominic stepped out, wearing a sharp charcoal coat, holding a leather envelope in his hand. He walked up the stone steps, a quiet smile gracing his handsome face.
"How is he?" Dominic asked, gesturing toward her father.
"He's good," Nora smiled, setting her cup down. "He asked if you were coming for dinner. He wants to show you his old mechanical tools."
Dominic chuckled—a rare, genuine sound that warmed the cold afternoon air. "I'd be honored."
He sat beside her on the porch bench, placing the leather envelope on her lap.
"What's this?" Nora asked.
"The official transfer papers for the Russo Foundation," Dominic explained, leaning back against the wooden railing. "And a deed to this brownstone, registered entirely under your father's name."
May you like
Nora looked at the papers, her throat tightening with emotion. "Dominic... you've already given us so much."
"I gave you what you earned," Dominic corrected softly, taking her chin in his hand and turning her face toward his. "You gave me back my life, my trust, and my future."
