Page 18 of Charity's Redemption

Closing my laptop, I secured it in my case, then turned out the lights and locked up the office. Martha sat at her desk, busy as a bee, working to go home, when I paused by her desk.

“How are you and the husband?”

Her gaze met mine as she stopped what she was doing, giving me her full attention. “We are doing great. Having our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary this weekend,” she said enthusiastically.

“That’s great. Do you have any plans?”

She shook her head. “Not yet, we’re still debating.”

I placed my laptop and briefcase on the ground, leaning it up against her oval-shaped desk, then reached into my pocket and placed a business card down in front of her. “Call them, tell them I sent you. You’ll get in right away.”

She picked up the cream-colored card with a glossy sheen and read the name of the restaurant. A frown set on her brows, creasing her forehead. “I appreciate this, Mr. Moreno, but we cannot afford this place.”

I rapped my knuckles on her desk, then picked up my cases. “It’s on me. Happy anniversary.”

Martha’s mouth hung open, and she pulled the card to her chest as if I gave her the most precious gift of all time. “Thank you, sir. You don’t know how much this means to us.”

Her gratitude drew a smile on my face. She deserved it. She’d been here since the beginning of my career, and if I could foresee the future, she’d be here until she could no longer work. It was only right of me to take care of her.

“You’re welcome. Get whatever you like. Cost isn’t a factor. And enjoy.”

I left her beaming from ear to ear, her face flush, making my chest flutter. I only wish I’d done it sooner.

It was a common misconception that Made Men were hardened criminals who didn’t care about anyone else around themselves.

We cared.

We donated our money to charities, homeless shelters, and food banks. If we took care of the people around us, they had no reason to turn on us.

We were good for them.

That lifelong tradition has been going on since the days of Vito Genovese, and Lucky Luciano, despite what the newspapers spread about them.

I sunk down into my car, my shoulders sagging from the long day. It seemed like just yesterday that we’d found Charity’s car vandalized in this very parking lot. Which reminded me.

Pulling out my phone, I dialed Adelaide’s number, but it went straight to voicemail. She’d been difficult to get a hold of lately and, by difficult, I meant impossible—never answering her phone or responding to texts.

I fired up my car and drove out of the covered parking lot towards Luca’s home. Our family home. The one I’d grown up in. The one that held so many excellent memories from my childhood every time I walked through the door.

The house came into view as I pulled into the driveway and garage. Well, the house was still standing, so that was a positive sign. Whenever Charity and Luca were together, things evolved into unpredictability, and tension so volatile it was unclear of when it’d explode. But when I walked inside and noted the tranquility, it took me aback.

There was a quiet, a sense of calm in the air, and it was strange—foreign. It wrapped around me like a blissful cloud, causing confusion about what to do next. I dropped my cases next to the door and made my way into the kitchen, where Vito, Max, and Luca sat conversing in hushed tones.

If I’d felt serenity before, it was only from ignorance. Their concerned looks etched on their faces told me a story I needed to hear.

“Ah, myConsiglierehas arrived,” Luca said, bracing his hands on the countertop until the blood bled from his knuckles, leaving nothing but white behind.

“What’s going on?”

“Let’s have a sit down.”

I took in a deep breath, held it, then released it as I followed them into the den where we did business—where we’d ripped out Charity’s heart and stomped on it. Did I mention this house held nothing but wonderful memories? I lied to myself as I tried to eject this particular one away.

Taking my seat with my back against the bookshelf, I crossed my ankle over my knee and waved my hand as Vito offered me a glass of liquor. I couldn’t drink anything right now, even if I wanted to. “Where is Charity?”

“She’s sleeping it off.”

That’s good. It seems she listened, after all.

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