He Chose My Copy I Became The Law Chapter 06
A visibly shaken nurse assisted me into an examination room, where she cleaned the reopened injuries and dressed them again.
“Mrs. Romano,” she said, one hand poised above the telephone receiver. “Should I call the Capo?”
I reached over calmly and pushed the receiver back into place. “That won’t be necessary,” I replied without emotion. “I’ll make my own way back.”
Once I returned to the estate, I climbed to the bedroom, selected several plain outfits from the wardrobe, and packed them in a small suitcase.
My phone lit up with a new social media post from Sofia.
The picture showed her bundled in Adrian’s charcoal-gray suit jacket, her cheek against his chest. Beneath it, she had written, “He is my only safe haven in this dangerous world.”
My face expressionless, I scrolled beyond the offensive image, opened her profile, and selected “Block.”
The car I had booked earlier was already waiting beyond the main gates.
I hauled my suitcase into the back seat and told the driver our destination. “Central Station. I’m taking the night train to Porto Aurelia.”
The motor growled to life, and the car eased through the estate’s iron gates.
We had barely turned onto the main road when a line of black sedans approached from the other direction and swept past us.
The lead vehicle’s rear window stood halfway open. Adrian was turned toward the passenger beside him, speaking in a low voice.
Sofia rested against his shoulder, wearing a sweet smile as delicate as a songbird’s.
The two cars raced onward, each bound in the exact opposite direction.
Through the rearview mirror, I watched the white estate where I had spent six years grow smaller until the darkness consumed it.
At seventeen, I had followed him beyond the orphanage’s iron gates.
At twenty, I had fought at his side with a baseball bat to seize our first patch of street territory.
At twenty-two, we had traded rings inside that little chapel in the Dockside Ward.
At twenty-eight, I had watched him return home again and again, carrying the scent of perfumes that were not mine.
The memories passed like the streetlights beyond the glass, each one falling behind us in turn.
Raising my hand, I eased the midnight-blue sapphire ring off my finger.
I lowered the window and extended my hand outside, watching the ring carve a sparkling arc through the air before vanishing into the gutter’s black water.
It was finally finished.
Beyond the window, Ravenport’s neon lights still burned with blinding intensity. Laughter spilled from its bars and casinos, part of some lavish celebration to which I had never been invited.
I settled against the seat and let my eyes close.
I was going home now—back to the estate bearing my father’s carved name, where a high-backed mahogany chair had stood waiting for me for twenty years.
Back to where everything began.Â