Chapter 15 - The Sovereign Donna of the North LibraryLater that evening, after the grand feast had wound down into soft acoustic music, clinking crystal, and lively laughter, Lorenzo and I stood together on the private master terrace of our Hudson River fortress.
A gentle summer breeze rustled the sheer curtains behind us, carrying the clean, crisp scent of river water and the blooming roses from the gardens below.
Inside the softly lit salon, Mrs. Gable was sitting by the fire, holding a sleeping Lily in her arms, softly singing an ancient Sicilian lullaby as our Little Boss slept soundly against her chest.
Lorenzo held me from behind, his arms wrapped securely around my waist, his chin resting gently on my shoulder.
My left hand rested over his, the platinum and sapphire rings catching the silver glow of the New York moon.
“Are you tired, Donna Hannah?” Lorenzo whispered into my ear.
I leaned back against the broad, solid warmth of his chest, smiling up at the starlit sky, feeling the steady, rhythmic beat of his heart against my shoulder blades.
I thought of the cold library shadows, the empty plastic measuring scoop, the sixteen dollars an hour in my checking account, and the moment a four-year-old girl with curly hair had looked into the eyes of a monster and told him his shadow was too heavy to carry alone.
“Not anymore, Lorenzo,” I whispered back, turning in his arms to cup his rugged, scarred face in my hands. “Tonight, we’re finally home.”
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He smiled—the soft, peaceful smile of a sovereign whose wars were won and whose soul was finally whole—and kissed his wife beneath the Manhattan stars.
THE END
