Chapter 6 - Back Where It Started
Friday night, Toscano’s was packed.
Sadie carried two plates toward table twelve when the dining room suddenly became unusually quiet.
She stopped.
Roman Costa had entered.
Dark suit.
Open collar.
Tattoos visible above it.
But no bodyguards beside him.
David rushed toward Sadie.
“Why is he here?”
“Dinner.”
“With who?”
Sadie handed him the plates.
“Me.”
David nearly dropped them.
Roman sat at the same table beside the rug he had stained months earlier.
When Sadie approached, he looked down.
“New rug?”
“We had the old one cleaned.”
“Blood came out?”
“Eventually.”
Roman winced.
Sadie placed a menu before him.
“Don’t break anything.”
“No promises.”
She gave him a look.
“I promise.”
After her shift, Sadie sat opposite him.
For once, Roman wasn’t surrounded by employees, family, security, or people afraid of his name.
Just Sadie.
“Why here?” she asked.
Roman looked around.
“Because this is where I met you.”
“You were having a breakdown.”
“Memorable first impression.”
“You threw a chair.”
“You keep bringing that up.”
“It was a nice chair.”
Roman laughed.
Several diners turned.
Sadie stared.
“What?”
“I’ve never heard you laugh like that.”
His expression softened.
“Neither have I.”
Then the front doors opened.
Carmine entered.
Sadie sighed.
“You invited your father?”
“No.”
Carmine approached carrying something wrapped in brown paper.
“Two minutes.”
Roman frowned.
“What?”
Carmine placed the package on the table.
Roman opened it.
Inside was the restored painting frame.
The one he had broken.
Roman stared at his father.
Carmine said quietly:
“Luca bought that painting.”
Roman froze.
“He gave it to the restaurant when it opened,” Carmine continued. “I didn’t know until David told me.”
Roman touched the restored wood.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I spent too much of my life believing silence made men stronger.”
Carmine looked at Sadie.
“She seems to disagree.”
“Frequently,” Roman said.
“Constantly,” Sadie corrected.
Carmine smiled.
Then he handed Roman a small envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
Roman and Luca.
Teenagers.
Laughing beside an old truck.
On the back, Luca had written:
Someday he’ll realize he’s better than all of us.
Roman stopped breathing for a moment.
Sadie watched his eyes fill.
This time, he didn’t turn away.
He didn’t hit anything.
He didn’t run.
He simply sat there.
Carmine squeezed his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, son.”
Roman nodded.
“Me too.”
Carmine left them alone.
Sadie reached across the table.
Roman looked at her hand.
Then took it.
“No towel?” he asked.
“You’re not bleeding.”
“Progress.”
“Significant progress.”
Roman smiled.
Then became serious.
“Sadie.”
“What?”
“I don’t know what this is.”
She squeezed his hand.
“Neither do I.”
“I’m not good at normal.”
“I noticed.”
“I have a complicated family.”
“That may be the understatement of the century.”
“I’m trying to say something here.”
Sadie smiled.
“Then say it.”
Roman looked directly into her eyes.
“I want you in my life when you’re not being paid to be there.”
Sadie’s smile disappeared.
Not because she disliked the words.
Because she understood how difficult they were for him.
She leaned forward.
“Then ask properly.”
Roman swallowed.
“Stay.”
Sadie shook her head.
“That’s still an order.”
He laughed softly.
Then tried one final time.
“Would you stay?”
Sadie looked at the man who months earlier had terrified an entire restaurant.
The man who had learned that strength wasn’t the same thing as rage.
May you like
“Yes.”
This time, when Roman reached for her hand, no one in the restaurant looked afraid.
