Chapter 12 - THE WOMAN WHO WOULD NOT BE BOUGHT
Dante offered Marisol a house.
She refused.
He offered to pay for Sofia's education.
She refused that too.
“Dante,” she said, “stop trying to solve everything with money.”
He looked at her.
“I'm trying to thank you.”
“I know.”
“Then let me.”
She smiled.
“You can thank me by making sure Sofia gets to be a child.”
Dante was quiet.
Then nodded.
“Fair.”
Over the following months, he spent more time with Marisol and Sofia.
Not as a mafia boss.
Not as a man surrounded by guards.
But as someone learning how to live without controlling everyone around him.
He helped Sofia with homework.
Burned pancakes.
And discovered that eight-year-olds had absolutely no respect for expensive suits.
One afternoon, Sofia looked at him.
“Dante?”
“Yes?”
“Why do you always look sad when you talk about Enzo?”
He swallowed.
“Because I miss him.”
She nodded.
“I miss him too.”
Then she hugged him.
And Dante realized grief was easier to carry when someone else was willing to hold part of it.
That evening, Marisol found him sitting on the balcony.
“Thank you for being kind to her.”
Dante looked up.
“She reminds me of Enzo.”
Marisol smiled.
“Because she notices things?”
“Because she believes people should be good even when nobody is watching.”
Marisol sat beside him.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
May you like
Then Dante reached for her hand.
She let him.
