Chapter 40
The sun began to set, casting a warm, pristine cinematic glow over the Caruso estate. The sky was a brilliant canvas of vivid colors, entirely free of any muddy yellow tint. Vincent walked back into the grand living room, shedding his suit jacket. He felt a profound, unshakeable sense of completion. He was a monster to the world outside—a man who had locked his sister in the dark, slaughtered the New York Commission, and brought senators to their knees. But within these heavily fortified walls, he was a protector. Evelyn entered the room, carrying a sleeping Clara in her arms. Vincent crossed the marble floor, taking his daughter effortlessly from his wife. He carried Clara to her secure playroom, gently laying her down on the plush bed and pulling the soft covers up to her chin. He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. "No more ghosts, little bird," Vincent whispered softly in the quiet room. He stepped back out into the hallway, pulling the heavy oak door shut. He wrapped his arm around Evelyn, the undisputed king of the underworld walking alongside his queen. The war was officially over, the throne was secure, and the Caruso family was finally, permanently, and eternally safe.
