Chapter 8 - When the Boss Walked AwayLeo survived.
The bullet entered beneath his collarbone and missed the artery by less than an inch.
Mave learned that information from a surgeon at four in the morning while sitting in a hospital hallway wearing Leo's blood on her blouse.
Carmine sat beside her.
He had not spoken for twenty minutes.
Finally, he said, “He's difficult to kill.”
Mave laughed and cried at the same time.
“That's your comforting speech?”
“I'm not good at these.”
“No.”
“He'll be okay.”
“You don't know that.”
“I do.”
“How?”
Carmine looked toward the operating room.
“Because if death wanted Leo Castiglion, it had thirty years to practice.”
Mave wiped her eyes.
“You're ridiculous.”
“People tell me.”
At sunrise, the surgeon returned.
Leo was stable.
Mave slept in a chair beside his bed.
When she woke, Leo was watching her.
“You look terrible,” he whispered.
She started crying again.
“Oh, excellent.”
“What?”
“You wake up after being shot and insult me?”
“Consistency matters.”
Mave kissed him carefully.
When she pulled away, she slapped his arm.
“Ow.”
“You got shot.”
“I noticed.”
“You pushed me.”
“There was a gun.”
“You could have died.”
“You didn't.”
She stared.
Then she understood.
Leo would do it again.
Every time.
For the rest of his life.
That terrified her.
Three days later, he made the decision before she could.
He summoned Carmine.
Attorneys.
Board members.
Federal investigators.
And Mave.
They gathered in a private hospital conference room.
Leo wore a sling.
His face was pale.
“I resign.”
Nobody spoke.
Mave stared.
“From what?”
“Everything.”
Carmine blinked.
“The organization?”
“The illegal businesses immediately.”
“You already shut most of them down.”
“The rest goes.”
Leo looked toward his attorneys.
“Castiglion Maritime becomes fully legitimate. Independent compliance. Outside board oversight.”
One lawyer nearly dropped his pen.
Leo continued.
“My voting shares transfer into a managed trust.”
Mave stood.
“Leo.”
He looked at her.
“I won't give anyone another reason to put a bullet through me because they want a dock.”
“You don't have to surrender your entire life.”
“I am choosing it.”
That phrase mattered.
Mave slowly sat.
Leo looked at Carmine.
“You can stay with Maritime.”
“Doing what?”
“Security.”
“Legal security?”
“Yes.”
Carmine grimaced.
“Do I have to wear a badge?”
Mave laughed.
Leo almost did.
Carmine sighed.
“Fine.”
The transition took months.
Volkov was arrested after one of his accountants agreed to testify.
Carmelo Vescari attempted to flee the country using a false passport.
He was detained at the airport.
Dominic accepted a plea agreement that would keep him in prison for the remainder of his life.
The city expected violence.
Revenge.
Bodies.
Instead, Leo gave investigators documents.
For newspapers, the story became astonishing.
Mafia heir dismantles inherited criminal network.
Housekeeper heiress exposes conspiracy.
Mave hated every headline.
Leo secretly saved them all.
They moved out of the mansion.
Not permanently.
At least that was what Leo claimed.
Mave knew better.
The house belonged to his old life.
They rented a townhouse overlooking a quiet park.
Leo complained constantly.
“The kitchen is small.”
“It's normal.”
“The security gate is pathetic.”
“It is a wooden fence.”
“Exactly.”
“We are not installing steel.”
“One steel gate.”
“No.”
“Reinforced wood?”
“Leo.”
He bought a dog instead.
A massive rescue mastiff named Brutus.
Brutus adored Mave.
He ignored Leo.
“This is betrayal,” Leo said.
“He has good instincts.”
Leo adjusted poorly to normal life.
He woke at five.
Made terrible coffee.
Walked around the house checking locks.
Called Carmine whenever a car parked outside for longer than ten minutes.
Mave slowly taught him something he had never experienced.
Boredom.
Safe boredom.
They went grocery shopping.
Leo hated coupons.
Mave used them anyway.
They watched bad television.
They argued over laundry.
Leo discovered he enjoyed cooking.
Badly.
One evening, he burned pasta.
Mave stared at the blackened pan.
“You ran international shipping routes.”
“Yes.”
“You controlled thousands of employees.”
“Yes.”
“You cannot boil noodles.”
“Apparently.”
She kissed his cheek.
“I love you.”
Leo smiled.
Then the doorbell rang.
His body changed instantly.
Mave saw it.
The old Leo.
Shoulders rigid.
Eyes sharp.
She touched his hand.
“Stay.”
“I'll check.”
“Brutus.”
The dog trotted toward the door.
Leo sighed.
“Humiliating.”
The visitor was Nora.
Mave's friend.
The woman from the infamous dinner.
Nora entered carrying wine.
Leo stared suspiciously.
“You're the radiator.”
Nora blinked.
“What?”
“The car.”
Mave covered her face.
“Please ignore him.”
Nora looked delighted.
“Oh my God. You really waited up for her?”
Leo walked away.
“No.”
Mave and Nora burst out laughing.
Later that night, Mave found Leo standing at the bedroom window.
“You're brooding.”
“Thinking.”
“Dangerous.”
He looked at her.
“Are you happy?”
The question surprised her.
“Yes.”
“With this?”
“Yes.”
“With me?”
Mave walked toward him.
“Especially you.”
He looked uncertain.
It still amazed her that a man who once controlled half the waterfront could be insecure about love.
“What?”
Leo looked outside.
“I don't know what I offer anymore.”
Mave stared.
“You think I loved the mafia boss?”
“You met the mafia boss.”
“I met a sleep-deprived man who yelled because his espresso machine confused him.”
“It was Italian.”
“So are you.”
“That isn't how machinery works.”
Mave smiled.
“You offer me yourself.”
His eyes returned to her.
“That is enough.”
Leo touched her cheek.
“I don't deserve you.”
“Probably not.”
He laughed.
“But I chose you anyway.”
Six months after the shooting, something changed again.
Mave received an envelope.
Her mother's handwriting was not on it.
Carmine delivered it personally.
“Found during Vescari's evidence search.”
Inside was a final letter.
From Salvatore Castiglion.
To Evelyn Quinn.
Evelyn,
If anything happens to me, I need you to know that saving Leo saved the only decent thing I ever gave the world.
Keep your daughter away from this life.
Let her grow ordinary.
Let her become someone who sleeps without guards outside the door.
Mave stopped reading.
Leo sat beside her.
The final lines were harder.
And if our children ever meet, I hope Leo has become a better man than I was.
Maybe your daughter will remind him that he can.
Leo looked away.
Mave touched his face.
“Your father knew.”
“No.”
“He hoped.”
Leo's eyes filled.
He rarely cried.
Mave had seen him bleed without flinching.
She had seen him face guns.
Threats.
Betrayal.
But grief reduced everyone to children eventually.
Mave held him.
For a long time, he allowed it.
Then he whispered, “I spent half my life becoming him.”
“And the other half?”
Leo looked at her.
She smiled.
“You still have it.”
He kissed her forehead.
That night, Leo slept for seven uninterrupted hours.
The longest since Mave had known him.
In the morning, she found him in the kitchen.
Coffee waiting.
Not burned.
He handed her the chipped hardware-store mug.
She smiled.
“Improving.”
“I watched a tutorial.”
“Character development.”
Leo leaned against the counter.
“I want to ask you something.”
Mave immediately became suspicious.
“You look nervous.”
“I am.”
“That's alarming.”
Leo reached into his pocket.
Mave's breath stopped.
He removed a small velvet box.
Then did something she never expected from Leo Castiglion.
He hesitated.
“You don't have to say yes.”
Mave's heart broke open.
The old Leo issued commands.
The new Leo offered choices.
He knelt.
“Mave Quinn.”
Her eyes filled.
“I had a speech.”
“What happened?”
“I forgot it.”
She laughed through tears.
“That feels appropriate.”
He opened the box.
The ring was simple.
Beautiful.
Nothing excessive.
“I spent most of my life believing love was leverage.”
His voice trembled slightly.
“You taught me it can also be freedom.”
Mave covered her mouth.
“I don't want to own you. Protect you from everything. Decide for you. Or turn you into something that fits my life.”
He looked up.
“I want to build a life that fits both of us.”
Mave was already crying.
“Will you marry me?”
She waited exactly three seconds.
Leo's expression became increasingly horrified.
Mave smiled.
“I wanted you to suffer a little.”
“Mave.”
“Yes.”
Leo exhaled.
“Yes?”
“Yes, Leo.”
He stood.
She threw her arms around him.
Brutus barked.
The coffee spilled.
Neither cared.
For once, Leo Castiglion wasn't thinking about enemies.
Territory.
Security.
Legacy.
He was thinking only about the woman in his arms.
May you like
The woman who had once come home at two in the morning and accidentally exposed the one weakness he could no longer hide.
Love.
