Chapter 10 - The Choice Vincent Rossi Never Made BeforeRichard Vale had been presumed dead for fourteen months.
Vincent himself had seen photographs of the burned vehicle recovered from an abandoned warehouse outside Newark.
Dental records identified the body.
Money transferred through three shell accounts suggested Vale’s remaining organization had collapsed.
Vincent had believed the matter finished.
He had been wrong.
Dominic arrived in Maine before sunrise.
He placed a folder on the kitchen table.
“Dental records were manipulated.”
Vincent turned pages.
“By whom?”
“A medical examiner who disappeared six weeks later.”
“Vale paid him.”
“Probably.”
Clara stood at the counter.
Matteo was still asleep.
“What does Vale want?”
Dominic looked toward Vincent.
“Everything.”
Vincent’s mouth hardened.
Vale had once controlled several major shipping routes.
Vincent had taken them.
Vale responded with the bombing.
But the explosion had killed Vincent’s wife instead of him.
Afterward, Vincent destroyed everything connected to Vale.
Or thought he had.
Dominic continued.
“He believes if Matteo is removed, there’s no legitimate Rossi successor. Your captains split. Your territory fragments.”
Clara crossed her arms.
“So all of this is about succession.”
“Yes.”
Vincent closed the folder.
“I’ll go back.”
Clara stared at him.
“No.”
He looked at her.
“I end this.”
“That is exactly what he expects.”
“I’m not hiding in Maine while another man hunts my child.”
“And I’m not letting you walk into a trap because your pride tells you fathers have to fight alone.”
“This isn’t pride.”
“Then prove it.”
Silence filled the kitchen.
Dominic looked between them and wisely said nothing.
Clara stepped closer.
“You told Matteo danger could be prepared for. You told him we were a team.”
Vincent’s jaw tightened.
“We are.”
“Then act like it.”
She pointed at the folder.
“You have investigators. Dominic. Captains. Financial records. Federal agencies that would happily dismantle a man like Vale.”
Vincent almost laughed.
“You want me to call the government?”
“I want you to stop thinking the only useful solution is a body.”
Dominic quietly turned toward the window.
Vincent noticed.
“Something amusing?”
“Not remotely.”
Clara continued.
“Vale wants Vincent Rossi, crime lord. The man who reacts predictably when family is threatened.”
Vincent stared at her.
“What are you suggesting?”
“Give him someone else.”
Hours later, a plan began forming.
It was not clean.
It was not completely legal.
But it was different.
Dominic leaked information suggesting Vincent would return to the estate for a private meeting with senior lieutenants.
Meanwhile, evidence tying Vale to international financial crimes, weapons trafficking, and the original bombing was anonymously delivered to several federal offices.
Vincent hated depending on institutions he had spent years manipulating.
Clara considered that part of the therapy.
Three days later, Vale took the bait.
He arrived near the Rossi estate expecting a vulnerable organization preparing for war.
Instead, federal tactical teams intercepted his convoy before it reached the property.
No firefight at the house.
No Matteo hidden underground.
No Clara bleeding on a kitchen floor.
Vale survived.
That bothered Vincent more than he wanted to admit.
Late that evening, Dominic received confirmation.
“Custody?”
“Federal.”
“Charges?”
“Enough that he’ll die an old man behind concrete.”
Vincent stared out the Maine window.
Clara approached.
“You wanted to kill him.”
“Yes.”
“Do you still?”
Vincent thought about Matteo sleeping in the next room.
About the cameras.
The fortress.
The years spent believing vengeance and protection were interchangeable.
“Yes,” he said.
Clara appreciated that he did not lie.
“But?”
Vincent looked at her.
“But I didn’t.”
She smiled faintly.
“That counts.”
“For you?”
“For Matteo.”
Vincent nodded.
Then he reached into his pocket.
Clara saw the small black box.
Her entire body stilled.
“No.”
Vincent frowned.
“You haven’t heard the question.”
“You’re holding a ring.”
“I can put it away.”
“Good.”
He stared at her.
Clara started laughing.
Vincent Rossi, feared across several states, looked genuinely confused.
She touched his face.
“I love you.”
His expression changed.
It was the first time either of them had said it.
“But I’m not marrying you tonight because you caught a terrorist and had an emotional breakthrough.”
“He wasn’t technically—”
“Vincent.”
He stopped.
Clara kissed him.
“When you ask me, do it because we’re living. Not because someone almost died.”
Vincent closed the box.
“Is that a no?”
“It’s a not yet.”
“For clarification, how long does ‘not yet’ usually—”
She kissed him again.
Across the room, a sleepy voice said, “This is disgusting.”
They turned.
Matteo sat in the doorway.
His hair stood in every direction.
Vincent narrowed his eyes.
“How long have you been there?”
“Long enough.”
Clara smiled.
Matteo pointed at the box.
“Is that a ring?”
Vincent looked betrayed.
“You heard nothing.”
“I saw it.”
“Go back to bed.”
“Did she say yes?”
Clara answered.
“Not yet.”
Matteo considered this.
“Good.”
Vincent stared at his son.
“Whose side are you on?”
“Clara’s.”
“Of course.”
Matteo turned his wheelchair.
Then stopped.
“Dad?”
“Yes?”
“I’m glad you didn’t kill him.”
Vincent became still.
Matteo looked back.
“Mom wouldn’t want you to go away because of him.”
The words entered the room quietly.
Vincent had spent fourteen months believing his dead wife demanded vengeance.
Perhaps that had only ever been his own voice.
He crossed the room and crouched beside Matteo.
“You’re right.”
Matteo blinked.
“What?”
“I said you’re right.”
“Can Clara record that?”
“No.”
Matteo grinned.
Vincent hugged him.
Over his shoulder, he looked at Clara.
Her eyes were wet.
For once, the danger was truly moving away from them.
Not because Vincent had destroyed every enemy.
Not because the world had become safe.
But because he had finally begun choosing what came after survival.
And somewhere between the ruined past and uncertain future, the Rossi family had become something none of them expected.
Not unbreakable.
May you like
Something better.
Alive.
