Chapter 9 - A New Legacy
Six months later, the Duca estate played host to another gathering—not a lavish, cynical wedding born of political treaty, but a quiet, intimate celebration under the spring blossoms.
There were no corrupt judges, no cartel bosses disguised as financiers, and no press photographers trying to capture a perfect, manufactured smile.
Instead, the lawn was filled with the people who truly mattered: trusted loyalists from the Brooklyn syndicates who had stood by Lorenzo through every storm, Martha and her family, and at the very center of it all, four-year-old Lulu wearing a new white dress that didn't need any hem adjustments, holding a brand-new stuffed rabbit—though she still insisted on carrying the old one in her other hand.
Lorenzo stood on the stone terrace, watching the afternoon sun cast a golden glow across the Hudson River. The estate no longer felt like a fortress guarding secrets; it felt like a home.
As he walked down the stone steps toward the garden, Lulu ran toward him, her small feet pounding against the grass. She stopped right in front of him, raised her little hands, and signed with a bright, gap-toothed grin:
You are smiling.
May you like
Lorenzo crouched down, scooping her up into his arms with effortless strength, feeling the warm, vibrant life of a child who had saved his empire simply by refusing to stay silent.
"I am, Lulu," Lorenzo signed back, smiling as he looked out over the sunlit gardens and the peaceful river beyond. "I am."
