Chapter 8 - THE HOUSE WITHOUT GUNS
Two years later, the Romano estate looked different.
Most armed men were gone.
Security remained professional and external.
No guns on dining tables.
No captains discussing violence in the kitchen.
The marble had been replaced in the sunroom.
I hated that at first.
Then I realized I did not need the bullet holes preserved.
Leo was eight.
He attended a private school.
With discreet protection.
Not prison-level security.
Progress.
Elena lived twenty minutes away.
She became director of a foundation supporting victims of coercion and organized-crime families trying to leave dangerous networks.
She was good at it.
Who better?
Victor ran Romano Logistics, now heavily audited and fully legitimate.
He complained compliance meetings were worse than gunfights.
I told him:
“Good.”
I finished my healthcare administration program.
Then accepted a job at a children’s rehabilitation hospital.
Not Victor’s company.
Not his foundation.
Mine.
That mattered.
Noah received a kidney transplant.
Successful.
The morning he came out of surgery, Victor sat beside me in the waiting room.
No guards inside.
No business calls.
Just coffee.
Noah survived.
Months later, he returned to work.
Our family finally stopped living from invoice to invoice.
Then Victor asked again.
Not at a restaurant.
Not in the mansion.
In my apartment kitchen.
He held a butterscotch candy.
I laughed immediately.
“You are ridiculous.”
“Leo helped.”
“Of course.”
He rolled the candy across the floor.
It stopped against my shoe.
Then he knelt.
This time.
I covered my face.
“Anna Mercer.”
“Yes?”
“I once told you that you belonged to me.”
I lowered my hands.
“I was wrong.”
Good.
“You belong to yourself.”
My eyes filled.
He opened a small box.
“I would like the privilege of belonging beside you.”
That was the line.
Not ownership.
Choice.
I cried.
“You practiced that.”
“Six weeks.”
“Leo?”
“Rejected seven drafts.”
I laughed through tears.
Victor asked:
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
Leo screamed from behind the hallway wall.
“I KNEW IT!”
I turned.
“You were listening?”
He ran out.
“Obviously.”
Victor looked offended.
“You promised privacy.”
“I’m eight.”
Fair.
We married six months later.
Small ceremony.
Elena attended.
So did Gabriel.
No armed men.
No criminal captains.
No blood on marble.
Leo carried the rings.
Noah gave me away and whispered:
“If he becomes weird, I have one healthy kidney and no fear.”
I nearly ruined my makeup laughing.
Victor heard.
“Noted.”
At the reception, Elena approached me.
“You look happy.”
“I am.”
She hugged me.
“Good.”
No rivalry.
No humiliation.
Life had done enough of that to both of us.
Then she looked at Victor.
“Be better.”
He nodded.
“I’m trying.”
She smiled.
May you like
“That’s all anybody gets.”
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