Chapter 8 - The Man Who Was Never in Custody
Leo opened the door.
Daniel stood alone.
"Hands where I can see them."
Daniel raised both hands.
"Good evening to you too."
Leo showed him the photograph.
Daniel's face changed.
"Where did you get that?"
"You tell me."
Ara stepped beside Leo.
"Daniel?"
Daniel entered.
He explained that the man arrested at Pier 40 had not been Anthony Serrano.
Not legally.
Fingerprints returned under another identity.
Plastic surgery and forged records had complicated identification.
The real Anthony had escaped years earlier.
The man they knew as Anthony was his younger cousin.
"Then who's in the photograph?" Leo asked.
"The real Anthony."
Ara frowned.
"And why are you standing beside him?"
Daniel looked at her.
"Because he contacted me."
Leo's patience thinned.
"You're developing a habit of secret meetings."
"He offered information."
"About?"
Daniel placed a flash drive on the desk.
"Your mother's death."
Leo froze.
Elena Rossi had died from cancer when Leo was twenty-three.
At least that was what he had always believed.
Daniel said medical records had been altered.
Elena had indeed been sick.
But her condition had been treatable.
Someone interfered with her medication.
Leo sat.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Ara moved beside him.
Daniel continued carefully.
Anthony possessed proof.
He wanted immunity.
Leo's old instincts returned.
Find Anthony.
Destroy him.
Force answers.
Ara saw it happening.
She placed her hand over his.
"Don't."
Leo looked at her.
"He killed my mother."
"We don't know that."
"He knows who did."
"Then we find out legally."
Leo laughed bitterly.
"Legally."
"Yes."
He looked at their hands.
Months earlier, that word would have sounded ridiculous.
Now he nodded.
They took the flash drive to federal investigators.
The records revealed Elena's physician had accepted payments.
The payments originated from Dominic Serrano.
Enzo's biological father.
Dominic had wanted Vittorio destabilized.
Killing Elena would destroy what remained of him.
But Elena survived longer than expected.
Dominic died before completing his plan.
Her eventual death, years later, had genuinely been from complications of illness.
Leo sat with that truth.
Someone had tried to kill his mother.
But they had failed.
Her final years had still been real.
Her love had not been stolen entirely.
Anthony agreed to testify.
He entered protective custody.
This time, Leo personally watched federal marshals process him.
"You satisfied?" Ara asked.
"No."
"Progress."
They walked outside.
Months had passed since the restaurant night.
The city looked the same.
Leo did not.
Rossi Maritime was legitimate.
Profits had initially dropped.
Then something unexpected happened.
Without bribery, theft, and hidden criminal expenses, the company stabilized.
Ara started her own consulting firm.
Leo became her first client.
She charged him double.
He paid without complaint.
Gabriel moved nearby.
Sofia cooperated with investigators and entered a protection arrangement that still allowed limited contact with Ara.
Marco became head of corporate security.
Carmine retired somewhere far from New York after investigators found no evidence tying him to murder but plenty tying him to tax fraud.
Daniel became an irritating but useful friend.
One evening, Leo asked Ara to dinner.
"Where?"
"Laura."
She stared.
"Seriously?"
"I have unresolved issues with that restaurant."
Ara laughed.
They returned to the same table.
Leo brought roses.
Too many.
Ara looked at the enormous bouquet.
"Compensating?"
"For what?"
"The emotional maturity you lacked the first time?"
Leo sat.
"Possibly."
They ate.
They talked.
No bodyguards stood beside the table.
Marco waited outside because Leo had not evolved that much.
At dessert, Ara reached across.
She took Leo's hand.
He looked at their fingers.
The image reminded him of the night everything began.
"You know," she said, "Daniel wasn't actually holding my hand romantically."
"I know that now."
"You looked like you wanted to kill him."
"I did."
"That's not romantic."
"I've learned."
"Have you?"
Leo reached into his jacket.
Ara's expression changed.
"Leo."
He placed a small velvet box on the table.
She stared.
"You cannot possibly—"
"I'm not proposing."
Ara exhaled.
"Thank God."
Leo looked offended.
"That reaction was unnecessary."
She laughed.
He opened the box.
Inside was a key.
"What's that?"
"My apartment."
"You already gave me a key."
"Different apartment."
Ara frowned.
Leo had purchased a home outside Manhattan.
Not a fortress.
Not a compound.
A house.
He showed her photographs.
A kitchen.
Garden.
Office.
A ridiculous amount of closet space.
Ara slowly looked up.
"What are you asking?"
"Nothing you have to answer tonight."
He closed the box.
"I'm asking whether someday you'd want something normal with me."
Ara's eyes softened.
"Leo Rossi asking for normal."
"Don't tell anyone."
She squeezed his hand.
"I'll think about it."
Leo smiled.
For once, that was enough.
Then Ara noticed someone standing outside the restaurant window.
An elderly woman.
Watching them.
Ara's smile disappeared.
Leo turned.
The woman placed one hand against the glass.
Around her neck hung Vittorio Rossi's pendant.
Leo stood.
The woman mouthed two words.
May you like
"Your sister."
And then she walked away.
