Chapter 10 - HOME
The battle of Saranac Lake was short, brutal, and decisive.
When Don Camillo learned from Paul that the legendary Vescari ledger had been completely destroyed—that there was no longer any leverage to steal, no evidence to blackmail the council with—the entire premise of his attack evaporated.
Matteo walked out onto the front porch in the middle of the gunfight, totally unarmed, illuminated by the flames of the burning gatehouse. He called out Camillo in front of his own lieutenants. Without the ledger to prove the Moretti murder, Camillo had no legal or traditional standing within the Commission to execute a sitting Don.
Faced with a protracted war against a man who had clearly lost his mind and burnt his own billion-dollar empire to the ground for his wife, Don Camillo backed down. A truce was struck in the snow—cold, bloody, but final. The Vescari family would surrender its territory on the eastern waterfront, and in exchange, Matteo Vescari was permitted to step down from the Commission permanently.
He was out.
Six months later.
The small coastal town of St. Andrews in New Brunswick, Canada, was quiet, green, and completely detached from the noise of New York City.
A small white cottage sat on a cliff overlooking the ocean, its garden filled with wild roses and lavender.
Vivien sat on the wooden porch, drinking a cup of chamomile tea, watching the sea fog roll over the cold blue water. She wore a simple cream sweater and denim jeans. Her skin was warm, healthy, and her dark eyes were bright with a peace she hadn't known in nearly a decade.
The screen door opened behind her.
Matteo stepped out onto the porch. He was dressed in a casual flannel shirt, his hair a little longer, the sharp, cold lines of his face softened by six months of ocean air and manual labor. He carried two plates of fresh pastry from the local bakery.
He set the plates on the small wooden table, walked over to her chair, and leaned down, placing a soft, unhurried kiss on the top of her head.
"The carpenter finished the new shelving in the library," Matteo said softly, sitting on the bench beside her. "No false panels this time."
Vivien smiled—a genuine, warm smile that reached her eyes. "Good. I don't intend to hide anything ever again."
Matteo reached out and took her hand. On her ring finger, sitting simply against her skin, was a new band—not platinum or diamond, but a smooth, thick ribbon of solid gold he had hammered himself in a local blacksmith shop.
He didn't own a penthouse anymore. He didn't have forty bodyguards standing in his hallway. He didn't command an empire of blood and shadow.
He had a four-room cottage, a small sailboat tied to the harbor dock, and the woman who had burned his entire world to ashes just to show him how to live in the light.
"Are you happy, Viv?" he asked softly, his thumb gently stroking the back of her hand.
Vivien looked out at the vast ocean, then turned her head to look at the man who had traded everything he owned just to keep her.
May you like
"I’m home," she said.
And for the first time in seven years, neither of them looked back.
