Chapter 6 - The Long Recovery
Over the next month, the Gold Coast mansion transformed. The sterile, clinical atmosphere dissolved, replaced by the sounds of a child’s laughter and the smell of real food cooking in the kitchen.
Dr. Harris monitored Vincent daily. The Prussian blue therapy was working miracles. Vincent’s hair stopped thinning, his skin regained its healthy, tanned color, and the tremors in his hands finally ceased. He could walk down the grand staircase without holding the banister.
But the biggest change was political.
With the Valenti family exposed and Vanessa’s father stripped of his shipping docks, Vincent’s grip on Chicago became absolute. He systematically purged any captain who had shown hesitation during his illness. He was no longer the dying king; he was a resurrected emperor.
Yet, his priorities had shifted.
Every afternoon at 3:00 p.m., the feared Don Moretti would sit at the massive mahogany table in his study, completely ignoring million-dollar wire transfers to help Lily with her third-grade math homework.
Elena watched them from the doorway, her heart slowly healing. Vincent had kept his promise: no violence entered the family wing of the house. He treated Elena with a reverence and respect she had never experienced in her life. He bought her clothes, ensured she had her own private quarters, and never pressured her for more than she was ready to give.
One evening, as the sun set over Lake Michigan, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold, Vincent found Elena sitting on the terrace.
"You're thinking about leaving," Vincent said, leaning against the stone balustrade beside her.
Elena sighed, looking out at the water. "It’s beautiful here, Vincent. But it’s a golden cage. Every time a car brakes too fast outside the gates, my heart stops. I'm afraid for Lily."
Vincent reached out, gently placing his hand over hers. "I am dismantling the street operations, Elena. I've already transferred sixty percent of our assets into legitimate real estate and green energy logistics. I’m getting out. For her. and for you."
May you like
Elena looked at him, searching his eyes for any sign of deceit. "It’s hard to leave the mafia, Vincent. They don't let people just retire."
"They do if they’re afraid of what happens if they say no," Vincent said with a grim, confident smile. "Give me six months. I will clean the slate. Then, we leave Chicago. We go anywhere you want."
