Chapter 10 - Healing Wounds
By 3:00 AM, the raid was successfully concluded, Carmine Vitale was securely locked in a high-security holding facility awaiting permanent exile, and Arthur Bennett had been quietly bundled onto a one-way private flight heading west toward Seattle, far away from the dangerous underworld of New York. Back inside the Greenwich estate, Sadie Bennett sat at her art restoration desk working quietly under the warm glow of a brass lamp, unaware of the midnight war that had just been fought and won on her behalf. The heavy oak door of her suite creaked open, and Victor stepped inside. He had removed his heavy overcoat, but his shirtsleeves were slightly smudged with soot and dust from the railway yards. Sadie looked up immediately, noticing the tired lines around his eyes. “You’re back late,” she observed softly, setting down her cotton swab. “Did something happen?” Victor walked over, pulling up a chair and sitting down opposite her easel. He looked at the landscape painting she had been working on—the original golden-hour lighting of the river scene was now fully visible, radiant and breathtaking beneath layers of clean protective varnish. “Your brother has left the city, Sadie,” Victor said quietly. “He’s safe, and he’s heading out west to start over. He won't bother you ever again.” Sadie stared at him, a profound wave of relief washing over her face, instantly driving away the residual fear that had haunted her for weeks. She reached across the table, her small hand resting gently over his calloused knuckles. “Thank you, Victor,” she whispered, using his first name for the very first time. Victor looked down at her hand resting against his, feeling a strange, unfamiliar warmth spread through his chest—a feeling that had nothing to do with power, control, or fear, and everything to do with redemption.
