Chapter 5 - The Ghost's Bargain
At dawn, the storm had passed, leaving behind a cold, crisp morning. Claret was brought into the master bedroom at the center of the mansion. The room smelled heavily of rubbing alcohol, ancient herbs, and the sour scent of illness.
Don Salvatore Russo lay in a massive canopy bed. His skin was gray, his eyes sunken and bloodshot, and his breathing was a ragged, wet gasp. Monitors ticked quietly beside his bed, displaying his failing vital signs.
As Claret and Vincent entered, the old man’s eyes snapped open. The terrifying Don who had sneered at her twelve hours ago now looked pathetic, reduced to a trembling skeleton wrapped in silk sheets.
"You..." Salvatore rasped, his voice barely a whisper. He weakly pointed a trembling finger at Claret. "The... the Vela girl."
Claret walked up to the side of the bed, her tall frame casting a long shadow over the dying mob boss. She didn't feel fear anymore; she felt a cold, calm sense of purpose.
"My name is Claret Vela," she said, her voice clear and commanding. "Not a cow. Not a nameless thing to be swept away."
Salvatore let out a bitter, wheezing cough. "Your grandmother... Katarina... she cursed my bloodline before she fled. Now... the poison... it burns my insides."
"Karma has a long reach, Don Salvatore," Claret said coldly. "You burned my family’s village for greed. Now greed is killing you."
"Save me..." the old man begged, his pride finally breaking under the terror of approaching death. "The vault... beneath the old cathedral downtown. The antidote is inside the steel chest... along with the Vela ledgers. Open it... and I will give you half of everything I own. Gold... property... millions."
Claret looked at Vincent, who stood quietly near the door, his arms crossed, letting her handle the situation entirely on her own terms.
"I don't want your filthy money, Salvatore," Claret declared, her voice echoing in the quiet room. "If I open that vault, it will not be for your gold. I will open it under three conditions."
Salvatore gasped for air, his dark eyes wide with desperation. "Name them... name them!"
"First," Claret said, holding up one finger. "You will sign over every scrap of land, property, and wealth stolen from the Vela family into a charitable foundation that aids women and working-class families in Chicago."
"Done..." Salvatore choked out.
"Second," Claret continued, holding up a second finger. "You will immediately step down as Don and hand total control of the family operations to Vincent. He will dismantle the criminal network and turn the business legitimate."
Salvatore hesitated, a flash of his old ruthless pride flaring in his eyes, but a sudden sharp pain in his chest made him cry out in agony. "Yes! Yes... Vincent takes the mantle!"
"And third," Claret said softly, stepping closer to the dying tyrant. "You will publicly apologize to every person you have degraded, starting with me. And you will swear on the memory of your own mother that you will never again treat another human being as if they are worthless."
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Salvatore stared at her, tears of pain and humiliation streaming down his weathered cheeks. "I... I apologize, Claret Vela. I was a fool. Save my life."
Claret turned to Vincent. "Prepare the cars. We are going to the cathedral."
