Chapter 8 - The Return to Elm Street
The afternoon sun was warm as Dominic drove his SUV back to South Boston. The storm had completely cleared, leaving behind a crisp, brilliant autumn afternoon that painted the brick brownstones of Elm Street in shades of gold and deep orange.
Marco sat in the passenger seat, closing a leather planner. "Boss, the capos have all signed the new corporate agreement. Anthony Valenti is overseeing the transition of the shipping docks. The Barrett family has officially withdrawn all legal and financial claims against us. The family is entirely yours."
Dominic kept his hands on the steering wheel, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "Reorganize the foundation, Marco. Transfer forty percent of the hospitality revenue into a private educational trust. I want every legitimate business in this city under clean management by the end of the month."
"Yes, Boss," Marco said with a warm smile. "And what about the estate in Wellesley?"
"Sell it," Dominic said without hesitation. "Donate the proceeds to the Boston Children's Hospital. I don't want my sons ever setting foot in that house."
A few minutes later, Dominic walked up the creaky stairs of the apartment building on Elm Street. He didn't knock like a stranger this time. He unlocked the deadbolt with a new set of keys Clara had given him earlier that morning and stepped inside.
The apartment was quiet.
In the living room, the four boys were sitting at the small dining table, working on a massive hundred-piece jigsaw puzzle of a pirate ship. Clara was standing near the stove, stirring a pot of chicken noodle soup, the steam rising around her face like a soft veil.
When the front door closed, Clara turned around quickly, her amber eyes scanning Dominic’s face, looking for any sign of injury or failure.
"Is it over?" she asked softly.
Dominic walked into the kitchen, taking off his wool overcoat and draping it over a chair. He walked up to Clara, reaching out to take her face gently in his large, warm hands.
"It’s over, Clara," Dominic murmured, pressing his forehead gently against hers. "My father is in federal custody. The Barrett deal is dissolved. The family operations are completely restructured. No one will ever threaten you or the boys again. I promise you."
Clara let out a long, shuddering breath, her eyes brimming with tears of overwhelming relief. She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, burying her face into his chest, holding him with a fierce, desperate strength that she had held back for six long years.
"I was so afraid," she wept softly. "I was so afraid you wouldn't come back."
"I’m never leaving again," Dominic whispered, kissing the top of her head.
"Hey! Mister!" a small voice called out from the dining table.
Dominic turned his head, still keeping one arm securely around Clara’s shoulders.
Julian was holding up a blue puzzle piece, frowning at the cardboard pirate ship. "We can't find the piece for the captain's hat. Can you help us?"
May you like
Dominic looked at Clara, a bright, breathtaking smile breaking across his face—a smile so open and genuine that even Clara had never seen it before.
"I’m very good at finding missing pieces," Dominic said, walking over to the table and dropping to his knees beside his four sons. "Show me where it goes."
