Chapter 13 - The Throne Reclaimed
By midnight, the Whitmore Hotel ballroom had been thoroughly cleared of Carmine’s cowardly associates, who were currently being hauled off by federal marshals on extensive racketeering and extortion charges. Carmine Russo himself was locked away in a secure federal holding facility, stripped of his wealth, his influence, and his freedom forever. Dominic stood in the center of the grand ballroom, his arms uncrossed, breathing in the scent of victory and fresh air. The ghost pain in his legs was gone, replaced by the surging, triumphant strength of a man who had conquered both his physical paralysis and his deepest internal demons. Tony Mancini walked up, handing Dominic a pristine crystal glass of French champagne. “The docks are secured, Boss. All capos have renewed their loyalty. New York is officially back under your control,” Tony reported with a proud grin. “Good work, Tony,” Dominic nodded, taking a sip of the champagne. He walked over toward the private service elevator where Nora and Leo were waiting. As the elevator doors opened, Leo ran out, throwing his arms around Dominic’s legs. “Mr. Dominic! You walked all the way across the room! I saw you!” the boy cheered happily. Dominic knelt down, scooping Leo into his arms with ease, laughing heartily for the first time in months. He looked up to see Nora walking out of the elevator, her eyes shining with unshed tears of profound joy. She wore a simple, elegant blue dress, looking effortlessly radiant against the glittering backdrop of the chandeliers. “You actually did it,” Nora whispered, walking over to stand right beside him. “I told you,” Dominic smiled, holding Leo with one arm while gently taking Nora’s hand with the other. “The only person who can keep a Russo down is himself. And I was done staying down.”
