Chapter 13 - THE ASHES OF THE PAST
Three weeks had passed since the night at the cabin.
La Cattedrale was undergoing massive renovations.
The charred wood and shattered glass were gone.
In their place, expensive Italian marble and warm golden lighting were installed.
I stood in the center of the newly designed dining room.
Wearing an elegant charcoal suit that matched Dante's.
Paul had tried to sue for wrongful termination.
He received a very polite visit from Dante's lawyers.
He left the state the next morning.
Nobody had heard from him since.
Dante walked out of the back office, holding a stack of architectural blueprints.
"The grand reopening is in two weeks," Dante said.
"Will the old crowd come back?" I asked.
"They always come back," Dante smiled.
"Especially when they know who's running the floor."
I walked over to the large front window.
Looking out at the bustling city streets.
People walked by, unaware of the war that had been fought in the shadows.
Unaware of the blood that had washed the streets clean.
"Do you ever miss it?" I asked.
"Miss what?"
"Being normal."
Dante stood beside me, looking out at the city.
"We were never normal, Nora. We were just waiting for our turn."
I nodded slowly.
He was right.
Pietro Rossi's blood ran in my veins.
The blood of Prizzi.
May you like
We weren't victims anymore.
We were the rulers.
