He slipped his right hand into his pocket, pulled out a clean white linen handkerchief, and bent down, offering it to Sarah with a respectful bow of his head.
“The house is yours, Sarah,” Angelo said solemnly.
“The commission will recognize Daniel’s share as belonging to you and Lily.
None of Robert’s men will ever step foot on these grounds again.”
Sarah looked up at him, her eyes sharp and cold despite the tears that had fallen.
“I don’t want this house, Angelo.”
Angelo paused, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.
“It is worth millions.
The orchard alone produces—”
“Burn it,” Sarah interrupted, her voice flat, unwavering, and final.
“Burn the dining room, burn the cellar, and plow the orchard into ash.”
Angelo looked at her for a long, heavy moment, reading the iron in her spine that Daniel had fallen in love with years ago.
He gave a slow, single nod of understanding.
“Consider it done.”
Sarah scooped Lily up into her arms, holding the little girl tight against her shoulder so her face was buried in the warm crook of her neck.
She reached out with her free hand, taking Ethan’s small, trembling fingers in hers.
“Come on, Ethan,” Sarah said softly.
“We’re leaving.”
The seven-year-old squeezed her hand back with all the strength his little frame possessed.
“Where are we going, Aunt Sarah?”
Sarah walked toward the grand double doors of the estate, her steps steady, rhythmic, and unhurried.
Behind them, the capos were already gathering the ledgers and moving through the house to dismantle the empire Robert and Helen had stolen.
Sarah didn’t look back once.
Not at the fallen harvest baskets, not at the shattered porcelain, and not at the black, burnt meat lying cold upon the floor.
She pushed open the heavy front doors, stepping out into the clean, crisp autumn air under a sky full of cold stars.
“We’re going to get some real dinner,” Sarah said, breathing in the scent of pine and open highway.
“And we’re never coming back.”
Popular Posts
→- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
Recently Viewed
Stories you read recently will appear here.
