Chapter 7 - The Recovery
The morning after the pier operation, the city felt different. The tension that had hung over the Romano syndicate for months had completely dissipated. The competition had been broken, and my authority over the territory was absolute.
But as I walked back into the mansion, my focus wasn't on the corporate balance sheets or the congratulations from my captains. I went straight to the attic wing.
Sarah Williams was sitting up in bed, her color back to a healthy, soft pink. She was eating a bowl of soup that the kitchen staff had prepared under my direct supervision. Zoe sat at the foot of the bed, showing her mother the new set of colored pencils I had bought her.
When I entered, Sarah immediately tried to set her bowl down and climb out of bed, her eyes wide with apprehension. "Mr. Romano... I heard about what happened at the gate. The guards said... they said Zoe found something."
"Stay in bed, Sarah," I ordered gently, pulling a chair up to the bedside. "Your daughter saved my life. If she hadn't brought me that drawing, the entry team would have caught me off guard in the corridor."
Sarah looked down at Zoe, her eyes filling with tears as she pulled the little girl into a tight hug. "I was so scared, Boss. When the fever hit, I couldn't think straight. I just kept thinking that if I didn't clean the shoes, we'd be back on the streets..."
"Why did you think that?" I asked, my voice softening. "You've worked here for three years. Have I ever threatened to throw you out?"
"Not you," Sarah whispered, looking away. "But Marco... before he was assigned to the gate, he used to manage the staff schedules. He told me that you hated mistakes. He said if anyone fell behind, you’d have them dropped in the river. He used to take half my wages every month, saying it was a 'safety tax' to keep you from noticing us."
Rage, cold and sharp, flared up in my chest. Marco hadn't just been a traitor to the family business; he had been a parasite preying on the most vulnerable people in my house, using my feared reputation as a weapon to extort a sick woman. I was glad I had shot him myself.
"Marco lied to you, Sarah," I said, looking her directly in the eyes. "From this moment on, you don't answer to any supervisor or captain in this house. You answer directly to me. Your wages are doubled, retroactively for the past three years to cover what that rat stole from you."
Sarah gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Mr. Romano... I can't accept that. It's too much."
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"It's not enough," I said, looking over at Zoe, who was now drawing a picture of a massive, friendly-looking dog on her new paper. "Your daughter is my official head of security now. Consider this her retainer fee."
For the first time since I had met her, Sarah smiled—a genuine, beautiful smile that made her look ten years younger. The shadow of fear that had loomed over room 204 was finally gone.
