Chapter 7 - The House That Became a Home
Three months later, Gerald the stuffed giraffe still hung from Nico's chandelier.
Sofia refused to remove him.
“He survived too much.”
Lorenzo stood beneath the chandelier.
“He's gathering dust.”
“He's a war veteran.”
Nico ran into the room.
“Don't touch Gerald!”
Lorenzo looked at his son.
“Yes, sir.”
Nico pointed toward the hallway.
“Breakfast.”
“I'm coming.”
“No suits.”
Lorenzo looked down at his white dress shirt.
“This isn't a suit.”
“Mom said no work clothes at breakfast.”
The room went silent.
Nico froze.
Sofia stopped smiling.
It was the first time he had accidentally called her that.
“I meant Sofia,” Nico whispered.
Sofia crouched.
“Hey.”
He looked embarrassed.
“You can call me Sofia.”
“I know.”
“And you can call me whatever feels okay.”
Nico looked toward Lorenzo.
“Is Daddy mad?”
Lorenzo's chest tightened.
“No.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Nico thought about it.
Then he ran downstairs.
Sofia remained crouched for a moment.
When she stood, Lorenzo was watching her.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Don't do that.”
“Do what?”
“Stare like you're negotiating a murder.”
“I don't negotiate murders.”
“Reassuring.”
He smiled.
Three months had changed the Vitale estate.
Not completely.
Security remained.
The cameras remained.
Lorenzo still had enemies.
But the antique rifles were gone from the main hallway.
The east dining room had become Nico's art room.
Half the guards now knew the names of cartoon dinosaurs.
And Lorenzo was home for breakfast four mornings a week.
Dane's arrest had triggered investigations across Boston.
Several crews collapsed.
Greco, proven innocent of Bianca's murder, agreed to a ceasefire.
Lorenzo gradually separated the Vitale family from the criminal businesses his father had built.
It wasn't clean.
It wasn't easy.
But it had begun.
At breakfast, Nico pushed a plate toward his father.
“I made yours.”
Lorenzo examined the pancake.
It was black.
He looked at Sofia.
“He made it himself.”
“Clearly.”
Nico smiled.
“It's a dragon.”
“It looks like Massachusetts.”
“Eat it.”
Lorenzo cut a piece.
Sofia watched.
“Well?”
He chewed.
“Terrible.”
Nico laughed.
Then Matteo entered.
He carried a folder.
Sofia pointed at him.
“No business at breakfast.”
Matteo stopped.
Lorenzo raised an eyebrow.
“You've trained her badly.”
“I think she trained us.”
Matteo placed the folder on a side table.
“Later.”
Nico jumped down.
“Can we go outside?”
Sofia looked at Lorenzo.
“Dragon tracks.”
Lorenzo sighed.
“Again?”
“We never caught him.”
“He's been avoiding us for months.”
“Smart dragon.”
They went into the garden.
Spring had replaced the cold Boston winter.
Nico ran through the grass with his plastic magnifying glass.
Sofia walked beside Lorenzo.
“You know you don't have to keep paying me.”
He looked at her.
“That would normally be an unusual complaint from an employee.”
“I'm serious.”
“So am I.”
“Nico doesn't need a nanny anymore.”
“You were never his nanny.”
“Housekeeper?”
“No.”
“Dragon fighter?”
“Part-time.”
She smiled.
“Then what am I?”
Lorenzo stopped walking.
Sofia noticed.
“What?”
For a man who could negotiate million-dollar deals without blinking, Lorenzo suddenly looked uncomfortable.
“I bought something.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
He reached into his pocket.
Sofia's smile disappeared.
“Oh.”
“Before you panic—”
“Is that a ring?”
Nico appeared between them.
“It's a ring!”
Sofia covered her face.
“Nico.”
“What?”
“You weren't supposed to—”
Lorenzo looked at him.
“You knew?”
Nico nodded proudly.
“Matteo told me.”
Lorenzo stared toward the house.
Through an upstairs window, Matteo immediately stepped backward out of sight.
“I'm firing him.”
Sofia laughed.
“No, you're not.”
Lorenzo looked at her again.
“This isn't because of Nico.”
Her smile faded slightly.
“I need you to know that.”
“I know.”
“You changed his life.”
“So did you.”
“You changed mine.”
Sofia became quiet.
Lorenzo opened the small box.
The ring wasn't enormous.
Sofia had once called oversized diamonds “portable chandeliers.”
So Lorenzo had chosen something simple.
“Bianca was my wife,” he said. “I loved her. I always will.”
Sofia nodded.
“I know.”
“I spent months thinking loving anything again would somehow betray her.”
“And?”
“Nico taught me I was wrong.”
Sofia smiled through wet eyes.
“He's smarter than you.”
“Frequently.”
He took her hand.
“I can't promise normal.”
“I've met your family. I wasn't expecting normal.”
“I can't promise safe every second.”
“No one can.”
“I can promise I come back.”
Sofia looked at him for several seconds.
The same promise he'd once made Nico.
This time it meant something bigger.
“Ask properly,” she whispered.
Lorenzo raised an eyebrow.
“You're giving instructions during my proposal?”
“Yes.”
He sighed.
Then the most feared man in Boston lowered himself onto one knee in wet grass.
Nico gasped dramatically.
“Do the words!”
Lorenzo looked up at Sofia.
“Sofia Reyes, will you marry me?”
She waited.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Lorenzo narrowed his eyes.
“You're enjoying this.”
“A little.”
“Sofia.”
She smiled.
“Yes.”
Nico screamed.
“YES!”
He tackled Lorenzo before Lorenzo could stand.
Sofia began laughing.
Lorenzo landed in the grass with his son on his chest.
“This suit cost four thousand dollars.”
“You said no suits!” Nico shouted.
Sofia sat beside them.
“That's what you get.”
Lorenzo looked at the two people beside him.
For years, his mansion had represented everything he'd built.
Power.
Money.
Fear.
After Bianca died, it became a fortress.
Then Sofia walked inside wearing yellow kitchen gloves, turned a bedroom into a battlefield, and made his son laugh.
Somehow, that ridiculous night had changed everything.
Nico climbed onto his father's stomach.
“Daddy?”
“What?”
“Are we still having pancakes?”
Sofia laughed.
Lorenzo looked toward the mansion.
Then back at his family.
“Yes.”
“With chocolate chips?”
“Yes.”
“Can Sofia make them?”
Lorenzo nodded.
“Absolutely.”
Sofia shoved his shoulder.
“Why me?”
Lorenzo finally laughed.
Because for the first time in a very long time, there was no reason not to.
The house behind them still had iron gates.
Still had cameras.
Still belonged to a man Boston knew not to cross.
But inside those walls, fear was no longer the loudest sound.
Laughter was.
May you like
And Lorenzo Vitale intended to keep it that way.
THE END
