Chapter 8 - The Price of Peace
When the villa was quiet again, the scent of expensive cigar smoke lingered in the salon, but the poison had been drawn from our lives.
Don Castellano stayed for espresso on the terrace as the sun dipped behind the jagged peaks of the Alps, painting the lake in shades of violet and liquid gold. He looked at me with the solemn appreciation of a patriarch who had lived through fifty years of mafia warfare.
""Your father was a wise man, Elena,"" the old Don said, stirring his cup with a small silver spoon. ""He always said you were the sharpest mind in the state. I thought he was simply an indulgent father. Today, I see he was understating the truth.""
""My father taught me that a gun can only shoot in one direction, Don Castellano,"" I replied, leaning back comfortably in my chair. ""A ledger can shoot in every direction at once.""
Castellano chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound, and turned his gaze to Victor, who stood respectfully behind my chair, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder.
""You have a good wife, Victor,"" Castellano said pointedly. ""A man who does not listen to such a woman does not deserve to sit at the head of a family.""
""I know,"" Victor replied without hesitation. ""I am learning, Don.""
""Good,"" Castellano said, rising from the table. ""Sal has been dealt with. His crews in Brooklyn have been integrated under your command. The Volkovs are broken financially and politically. The city is peaceful. When the child arrives, I expect to be named godfather.""
""It would be our honor,"" I said, offering the old man a warm, genuine smile.
After Castellano's motorcade departed into the twilight, Victor and I walked through the gardens down to the edge of the water. The gentle lap of the waves against the stone dock was the only sound in the cool evening.
Victor reached out, taking my hand and interlacing his fingers with mine. His grip was firm, but there was a softness to it now that had never existed in the early years of our marriage.
""You risked everything on that debt maneuver,"" he murmured, looking down at our joined hands. ""If Nikolai had discovered the transfer an hour earlier, he could have tied up your assets in litigation.""
""I don't gamble, Victor,"" I said, turning to face him. ""I knew his character. Arrogant men always move too fast when they smell blood. He was so eager to see you fall that he forgot to check who owned the ladder he was climbing.""
Victor lifted my hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles softly, his eyes never leaving mine. ""I spent six years thinking I had to conquer the world to keep you safe. I built walls, I bought men, I killed enemies... and all the while, I was letting the real threats walk right through the front door.""
""You were trying to be what your father was,"" I said gently. ""A warlord. But a warlord only rules over ruins, Victor. I don't want to live in ruins.""
""Neither do I,"" he whispered, stepping closer, wrapping his arms around me from behind, resting his hands gently over our child. ""Tell me what you want, Elena. Whatever it is, it's yours.""
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""I want peace,"" I said, leaning back against his chest, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart against my shoulder. ""I want our daughter to grow up without looking over her shoulder. I want you to be a father, not a commander.""
""Then that is what we will build,"" he vowed into my hair. ""Starting tonight.""
