Chapter 6 - Warehouse Twenty-Seven
Rain began before we reached the harbor.
Warehouse Twenty-Seven sat behind a row of abandoned shipping buildings near the water.
Vincent's men surrounded it quietly.
Police were on standby several blocks away. The evidence against Calder had already been forwarded to federal investigators through Vincent's attorney.
That surprised me.
“You're involving the police?”
Vincent looked at me.
“I want him gone permanently.”
There were parts of Vincent's life I still didn't understand.
Parts I suspected I never would.
But that night he wasn't acting like the frightening man whispered about in the servants' quarters.
He was acting like a father.
We heard Mia before we saw her.
“No.”
Calder's voice followed.
“Give me the phone.”
“No.”
“Mia,” Claire whispered, “sweetheart, please.”
“No. You're mean.”
Despite everything, Renzo almost smiled.
Vincent didn't.
We entered through a side door.
Claire sat tied to a chair.
Mia stood behind her.
Calder was approaching them.
Then Mia did something insane.
She folded her arms.
Her eyebrows dropped.
Her lips flattened.
The angry face.
“You leave Claire alone.”
Calder stared at her.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
Even I nearly laughed.
Vincent whispered, “Oh, God.”
Calder grabbed Mia.
Vincent stepped from the shadows.
“Take your hand off her.”
Everything stopped.
Mia's face lit up.
“Mr. Grumpy!”
Calder pulled her against him.
A gun appeared.
“Drop yours.”
Vincent obeyed immediately.
That told me everything about how much Mia mattered to him.
Calder smiled.
“You've gotten soft.”
“No,” Vincent said. “I've gotten something to lose.”
Calder demanded the memory card.
Renzo tossed it onto the concrete.
Calder bent slightly.
That was his mistake.
Claire kicked backward.
Mia ducked.
Vincent moved.
The next few seconds became noise.
Men rushing.
A gunshot.
My scream.
Calder hit the floor.
Security dragged him away from Mia.
Vincent reached her first.
He dropped to his knees.
Mia threw herself into his arms.
He held her so tightly that she squeaked.
“Can't breathe.”
He loosened his grip immediately.
“Sorry.”
She touched his face.
“You're doing it.”
“What?”
“The face.”
Vincent laughed through tears.
Then I reached them.
Mia launched herself at me.
I held her, kissed her hair, her cheeks, her hands.
Claire was alive.
The bullet had missed everyone.
Calder was arrested before sunrise.
But the consequences reached much further.
The financial records Lucia had hidden exposed a network of bribery, extortion, and laundering tied to Calder and several members of the Marcelli organization.
Vincent turned everything over.
He also did something Renzo said nobody expected.
He began dismantling every questionable part of the Castalano empire.
“Why?” I asked days later.
We were sitting in the garden while Mia chased butterflies.
Vincent watched her.
“Because Sofia deserved a father she could have been proud of.”
His gaze shifted toward me.
“And because Mia shouldn't grow up believing dangerous men are normal.”
I smiled faintly.
“She thinks you're normal.”
“That child thinks crackers are cookies.”
“Fair point.”
Silence settled between us.
Comfortable silence.
Then Vincent said, “I owe you an apology.”
“For what?”
“Your life was peaceful before me.”
I laughed.
“I was behind on rent, working two jobs, and hiding my daughter in a laundry room.”
“Relatively peaceful.”
“Relatively.”
He smiled.
It changed his entire face.
I suddenly understood why everyone noticed when he did it.
Mia came running.
She had a daisy in her fist.
“For you.”
Vincent accepted it.
“Thank you.”
“No grumpy.”
“No grumpy.”
She climbed onto the bench between us.
Then, without warning, she grabbed my hand and Vincent's.
She pressed them together.
“There.”
Vincent looked at our joined hands.
I tried to pull away.
He didn't let go.
Mia nodded approvingly.
“Better.”
My heart did something inconvenient.
Vincent's thumb moved once against mine.
Then Renzo came running from the house.
The expression on his face erased the moment.
“Vince.”
Vincent stood.
“What happened?”
Renzo handed him an envelope.
No stamp.
No return address.
Inside was a photograph.
Vincent stared at it.
I looked over his shoulder.
A woman was walking through an airport.
Dark hair.
Sunglasses.
The photograph was dated yesterday.
May you like
On the back were four words.
Lucia Castalano is alive.
