Chapter 9 - The Last Debt
The threat came from Marco Marcelli.
His father had lost millions because of the evidence Lucia collected.
His brother had gone to prison because Vincent turned over Calder's records.
Marco wanted revenge.
But Vincent had learned something from losing Sofia.
He didn't hide danger from the people he loved.
He told me everything.
Then he gave me a choice.
“You can leave.”
I stared at him.
“With Mia. Anywhere you want. I'll make sure you're protected, and I won't follow unless you ask.”
“You think I want to leave you?”
“I think I want you alive.”
I walked toward him.
“You don't get to decide for me because you're scared.”
“I am scared.”
That silenced me.
He'd never admitted it so plainly.
“I love you,” he said. “I love Mia. That makes every threat different.”
I touched his face.
“Then we face it intelligently. Together.”
The police and federal agents already knew about Marco.
Vincent refused to retaliate privately.
Instead, he helped them build a case.
Marco made that easy.
He called.
He threatened.
He demanded money.
Every conversation was recorded.
Then he made his final mistake.
He arranged a meeting with Vincent at an abandoned restaurant in Brooklyn.
Vincent went wearing a wire.
Police waited nearby.
So did Renzo.
I remained home with Mia.
For approximately seven minutes.
Then the fire alarm sounded.
The building was evacuated.
In the confusion, a man dressed as a firefighter approached us.
Something felt wrong.
Real firefighters were moving people away from the building.
He was moving toward Mia.
I grabbed her and ran.
He followed.
I screamed.
A security officer tackled him near the lobby doors.
Police found a syringe in his jacket.
Marco had planned a second kidnapping while Vincent was distracted.
That ended any possibility of bail.
At the restaurant, Marco was arrested after explicitly admitting he'd ordered the attempt.
When Vincent reached us, he didn't speak.
He simply held Mia and me.
Then he looked at the fake firefighter sitting handcuffed in a police car.
His old expression appeared.
The one that made grown men look at the floor.
Mia touched his cheek.
“No face.”
Vincent looked down at her.
“Just this once?”
“No.”
His mouth twitched.
“Fine.”
That was the moment I knew the old Vincent was truly disappearing.
Not becoming weak.
Becoming free.
Marco Marcelli eventually pleaded guilty to conspiracy, extortion, attempted kidnapping, and several financial crimes.
The threat ended.
But something else had begun.
Vincent sold the estate.
That shocked everyone.
“This house has belonged to your family for fifty years,” Renzo said.
“Exactly.”
Vincent wanted somewhere new.
No locked rooms.
No corridors full of ghosts.
He kept Sofia's belongings.
He kept Lucia's photographs.
But he stopped living inside their tragedy.
We bought a house outside Boston.
I say “we,” although Vincent technically purchased it.
I insisted my name not be on anything I hadn't paid for.
He called me impossible.
I reminded him he liked impossible women.
He couldn't argue.
Mia chose her bedroom because it had a window seat.
Vincent chose his office because it was on the first floor where Mia could interrupt him.
And she did.
Constantly.
One afternoon I found her sitting behind his desk wearing his reading glasses.
Vincent stood opposite her.
“What are you doing?”
“Working.”
“At what?”
“Important stuff.”
He nodded solemnly.
“Understood.”
Then she frowned at him.
“Sit.”
He sat.
I leaned against the doorway trying not to laugh.
Mia opened an upside-down notebook.
“Mr. Castalano, we have a problem.”
Vincent glanced at me.
I shrugged.
“What problem?”
“You don't have enough cookies.”
“Serious.”
“Very.”
He folded his hands.
“What do you recommend?”
“Buy more.”
“Excellent analysis.”
Then Mia suddenly looked at me.
“Mommy, come here.”
I approached.
She made us stand together.
Then she sighed dramatically.
“You two take forever.”
Vincent frowned.
“Take forever doing what?”
Mia looked genuinely annoyed.
“Getting married.”
Silence.
My face went hot.
Vincent slowly turned toward me.
“Mia.”
“What?”
He reached into his desk drawer.
My breath stopped.
He removed a small velvet box.
Mia screamed.
“You already got it!”
I stared at him.
“You told her?”
“She found it yesterday.”
“I was looking for crayons,” Mia explained.
Vincent stood.
He opened the box.
Inside was a simple, beautiful diamond ring.
“Elena Harper—”
A crash sounded behind us.
We all spun around.
Renzo stood in the doorway.
A tray lay at his feet.
Coffee spread across the floor.
His mouth hung open.
“Were you about to propose without me?”
Vincent closed his eyes.
Mia copied him.
May you like
I started laughing.
And this time, nobody could stop.
