Chapter 15 - The Family He Chose
Five years later.
The grand ballroom of the Caruso estate was decorated in white lilies and silver ribbons. The room was filled with Chicago’s elite—politicians, businessmen, and a few heavily tailored men who represented the quiet, legal evolution of Dante’s empire.
Dante stood at the front of the room, wearing a bespoke tuxedo, looking handsomer and more at peace than he ever had in his youth.
The music swelled, and Maria walked down the aisle. She wore a stunning white gown, radiating a quiet, powerful beauty. But it was the girl walking ahead of her, dropping rose petals, that made Dante’s chest swell with unbearable pride.
Ten-year-old Elena looked like a princess. She walked up to Dante, smiling brightly, and took her place beside him at the altar.
The priest spoke the vows, the rings were exchanged, and Dante kissed his bride to the thunderous applause of the room.
Later that evening, the reception was in full swing. Dante slipped away from the crowd, walking out onto the quiet terrace overlooking the moonlit gardens. He heard soft footsteps behind him.
Elena walked up, holding a small porcelain plate. On it was a single, perfectly baked piece of artisan flatbread.
She looked up at him, her eyes holding the same profound wisdom they had when she was five, but this time, there was no hunger. There was only love.
“I saved you the big piece, Papa,” she smiled, handing him the plate. “Because you work the hardest.”
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Dante took the plate, his vision blurring with tears. He pulled his daughter into a tight embrace, kissing the top of her head. He had given them the world, but in return, they had given him a soul.
“Thank you, principessa,” Dante whispered into the night. “It’s exactly what I needed.”
