Chapter 8 - The Shadow of the Past
Two weeks after the battle on Star Island, Miami felt completely different. The Corvo crime syndicate had been dismantled from the top down. Federal indictments swept through city hall, corrupt police precincts, and shell corporations across the coast.
For the first time since Leo’s death, I woke up without looking over my shoulder.
Tyler and I were moved into the west wing of the estate—a sun-drenched collection of rooms overlooking the private beach. Jack had brought in private tutors, art teachers, and swimming instructors. Yet despite the sudden influx of boundless wealth, Tyler remained the humble boy who used to share a single grilled cheese sandwich with me on hard nights.
Every morning, Tyler would walk downstairs, find Jack sitting on the veranda with his morning espresso, and present him with a drawing. Jack, a man whose name still made cartel bosses sweat through their silk shirts, pinned every single one of Tyler’s crayon scribbles on his mahogany study wall next to his master shipping blueprints.
One afternoon, Jack invited me into his study. The room had been completely restored, the smell of gunpowder replaced by the scent of fresh leather and ocean air.
On the desk sat a thick stack of legal documents bound in dark blue leather.
""What is this, Jack?"" I asked, sitting in the high-backed chair.
""Leo’s legacy,"" Jack said softly. ""The escrow on the forty billion dollars was lifted yesterday morning by the federal courts. By law, Leo’s half of the maritime empire—twenty billion dollars in assets, shipping lanes, and docks—belongs entirely to his legal heir. That’s Tyler.""
I gasped, pushing the documents away as if they were burning hot. ""He's eight years old! I don't want him corrupted by this money! It ruined Leo's peace, and it nearly got him killed!""
""Look at the third page, Anna,"" Jack insisted gently.
I looked down. In clear, unmistakable legal print, Jack had drafted a complete restructuring of the Romano family holdings. All shadowy contracts, questionable logistics routes, and black-market enforcements had been liquidated or turned over to federal regulators. The entire twenty-billion-dollar enterprise had been converted into a transparent, global green-shipping trust, an oceanic conservation foundation, and a venture capital firm dedicated to single-parent education and housing grants.
""You gave up the underworld?"" I asked, staring at him in disbelief.
""Leo wanted a clean family,"" Jack said, his voice husky with emotion. ""I spent twenty years doing the ugly work so Leo wouldn't have to get his hands dirty. But when Corvo almost took Tyler from us, I realized that living in the shadows doesn't protect the people you love—it just paints a target on their backs. I’m stepping down as boss of the Romano syndicate. The syndicate is dissolved. From today on, we are legitimate.""
I looked at the signature line. Jack had appointed me as the sole trustee and chairperson of the foundation until Tyler turned twenty-five.
May you like
""Why me?""
Jack walked around the desk, stopping just inches from my chair. He reached out, his thumb gently brushing a stray lock of hair from my cheek. ""Because when the world tried to crush you, you took your son to Mare Nostrum on a city bus just so he could taste spaghetti by the sea. Because when the bullets were flying, you walked out into the fire to save my life. Leo picked the strongest woman on earth. And I intend to spend the rest of my life making sure you never have to count dollars on a kitchen table again.""
