Chapter 76: The End

[Caterina’s POV]

La Reale rises before us, its bronze-glass facade gleaming in the late afternoon sun. The casino’s purple and gold lighting isn’t visible yet in the daylight, but the building still commands attention in the waterfront skyline. It’s been over a month since I’ve been here since I’ve personally overseen any of my business operations.

Adam stands beside me, looking better than he has in weeks. The rehab stint, while not finished, has worked wonders so far. His complexion has returned to its healthy glow and his hands finally started regaining a little mobility. His new dental implant looks perfectly natural, matching his other teeth so well you’d never know what happened.

I squeeze his hand gently as we approach the main entrance, feeling his tension. My security detail surrounds us, an impenetrable wall of tailored suits and concealed weapons. Maddy walks slightly ahead, her sharp green eyes constantly scanning for threats. Lara trails behind that manic energy barely contained as she practically bounces on her toes with anticipation.

“You okay?” I murmur to Adam as we pass through the private entrance, avoiding the main gaming floor.

He nods, but the tightness around his eyes betrays his anxiety. “Yeah. It’s just... weird being back here.”

I understand completely. The last time he was in this building was before everything went to hell. Before Luna. Before the warehouse. Before his world collapsed.

We move smoothly through the back corridors of La Reale. The familiar sounds of the casino, the electronic chime of slot machines, the murmur of voices, the clinking of glasses, float through the air, muffled by distance but still recognizable.

The executive wing is hushed by comparison, the thick carpeting absorbing all sound except our breathing. We approach the glass-walled conference room at the end of the hall, and I can see our guests are already inside. Isabella Moretti sits with perfect posture, her silver-streaked dark hair styled immaculately. Beside her is Tony, looking uncomfortable as always. Across from them sits Lucia Fontana, her practical bob haircut and understated elegance a stark contrast to Isabella’s more ostentatious style.

At the door, I pause, turning to face Adam. His eyes are wide, darting between my face and the figures visible through the glass.

“Adam, you’ll wait here, okay? You’ll be able to see into the meeting, so you know nothing will happen,” I assure him, cupping his cheek gently. “These guards will stay with you the entire time.”

He bites his lip, anxiety radiating from him in waves. This will be our first time apart since we’ve been reunited, and I can see the fear flickering behind his eyes.

“Are you sure I can’t come in?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

I lean in and press my lips against his, a gentle reassurance that everything will be okay. “You’ll be able to see into the meeting through the glass,” I murmur against his mouth. “Nothing’s going to happen to me. I promise.”

He doesn’t look convinced, his eyes still darting nervously to the conference room, but he nods anyway. “Alright,” he says quietly. “I’ll wait here.”

I give him one last kiss before straightening my suit jacket and turning toward the conference room. Maddy and Lara fall into step beside me as I push open the glass door.

Isabella turns in her chair, that smug smile I’ve always hated spreading across her perfectly made-up face. “Caterina, I really must say I’m happy you facilitated this meeting…”

My gun is already in my hand before she finishes her sentence. Two quick shots echo through the conference room, both bullets hitting Isabella square in the forehead. Her head snaps back, blood and skull bits paint the sound proof wall behind her. Her body slumps forward onto the table, eyes still open in surprise.

Tony looks at us and sighs, unsurprised by his mother’s sudden demise. He simply shakes his head slightly as if he’d been expecting this outcome all along.

I holster my weapon with practiced ease and take my seat at the table, nodding to Maddy and Lara to do the same. The conference room feels suddenly quieter, the only sound the gentle hum of the air conditioning and Tony’s measured breathing.

Before I can even settle in my chair, the door flies open with a bang. Adam bursts into the room, his eyes wild with panic, darting between me and Isabella’s slumped body.

“You just said nothing would happen!” he shouts, his voice cracking with emotion.

I pat the empty seat beside me, my expression calm despite the fresh corpse bleeding out on the polished mahogany table.

“To me,” I correct him gently. “I said nothing would happen to me.”

Adam stands frozen in the doorway, his perfectly scarred hands trembling at his sides.

“It’s okay now, Adam. Come here,” I say, keeping my voice soft. “The hard part is done.”

He hesitates for a moment longer, then crosses the room on unsteady legs. As he sinks into the chair beside me, his eyes keep drifting to Isabella’s body, to the blood pooling beneath her head.

“Don’t look at her, baby,” I murmur, gently turning his face toward mine.

“Okay,” he whispers, his voice small and uncertain.

Across the table, Lucia Fontana observes us with that unreadable expression she’s perfected over decades in the business. Her bob haircut frames a face that somehow manages to look both motherly and ruthlessly efficient at the same time.

“Okay,” she says, straightening the papers in front of her. “Ready to start?”

“Yes,” I reply, placing my hand over Adam’s under the table, feeling his fingers still shaking beneath mine. “Tony, do you have any objections to proceeding?”

Tony Moretti glances at his mother’s body with something approaching relief in his eyes. “None whatsoever,” he says, his voice steadier than I expected. “I’ve been waiting for someone to do that for years.”

Adam’s eyes widen at this casual dismissal, but he says nothing, his gaze now fixed firmly on the table in front of him.

Lucia nods all business. “Then let’s discuss the transition of power. Isabella’s territories will officially pass to Tony, with the understanding that he will operate under my guidance for the first year.”

“And my retirement?” I ask, squeezing Adam’s hand gently.

“The Fontana family accepts your decision to step down,” Lucia confirms, her eyes softening slightly as she glances at Adam. “Your territories will be run by Maddy.”

Tony sighs again. “I’m not capable of running an operation,” he admits, sagging further into his chair.

I smile, leaning forward slightly. “Well, I suggested to Lucia, if that was the case, why not have Lara run it for you until you find someone else who can do it?”

Tony’s head snaps up, his eyes widening as they dart to Lara. Her manic grin spreads across her face, red hair practically vibrating with excitement at the mention of her name.

“You’re not going to force another marriage onto me like my mother, are you?” Tony asks, genuine fear flashing across his features.

Lucia shakes her head. “No, we just want someone we know we can trust.”

“I promise I won’t even lay a finger on you, Tony,” Lara says, her smile growing impossibly wider.

‘She might be a rapist and a serial killer, but I’ve never seen her lie.’

Adam shifts uncomfortably beside me, his fingers tightening around mine under the table. I can feel his anxiety spiking at Lara’s predatory expression.

“Is that really necessary?” he whispers, leaning close enough that only I can hear. “Lara running Tony’s territory?”

I squeeze his hand reassuringly. “Trust me, baby. It’s the cleanest way to ensure a smooth transition.”

Across the table, Tony looks like he might throw up, his pale face growing even paler as he studies Lara. The redhead winks at him, causing him to flinch visibly.

“For how long exactly?” Tony asks, his voice cracking slightly.

“Six months,” Lucia answers smoothly. “Just long enough to stabilize the territories after Isabella’s... departure.” Her eyes flick briefly to the corpse still slumped at the table.

I nod in agreement. “Lara has explicit instructions not to make any permanent changes to your operation. She’s simply there to maintain order while you figure out what you want to do.”

“And if I decide I want nothing to do with any of this?” Tony asks, a hint of defiance creeping into his voice.

Lucia’s expression remains impassive. “Then, after six months, you can walk away. The Fontana family will respect your decision.”

Tony seems to consider this, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Fine,” he concedes, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “Six months.”

Lara claps her hands together like a child who’s just been told they’re going to Disneyland. “This is gonna be so much fun! We’ll be like roommates, Tony!”

Tony visibly shudders.

Lucia clears her throat, pulling a stack of documents from her briefcase. “Let’s get the paperwork out of the way,” she suggests, sliding several pages across the polished mahogany table.

The next half hour passes in a blur of signatures and legal jargon. My hand moves mechanically across page after page, signing away clubs, casinos, trafficking routes, distribution networks, an empire I inherited, built over half a centuary dismantled in thirty minutes of paperwork.

Adam watches with wide eyes as I initial the final document, transferring La Reale into Maddy’s capable hands. His fingers remain intertwined with mine beneath the table, squeezing gently every few minutes as if to reassure himself that I’m still there.

When the last signature is dry, Lucia slides an envelope across the table. “Your retirement package,” she says, her voice professional but with a hint of something like respect. “The Fontana family believes in rewarding loyalty.”

I open the envelope, eyes widening slightly at the figure on the check inside, significantly more generous than I’d anticipated for someone leaving the business early.

“This is... substantial,” I observe, tucking the check into my jacket pocket.

Lucia’s lips curve into a small smile. “Mother always said you were one of the best. Worth every penny.”

As we rise from our seats, Isabella’s body still cooling in her chair, Lucia pauses, her expression softening momentarily.

“It’s a damn shame to see you go,” she says, straightening her practical blazer. “Mother really liked you.”

I glance at Adam, who stands beside me looking both relieved and exhausted, his cute eyes fixed on my face with that mixture of fear and adoration that still takes my breath away.

“True,” I acknowledge with a slight nod, “but when true love comes calling...” I let my gaze linger on Adam, watching a blush spread across his cheeks at my public declaration.

Maddy steps forward, ever the professional, to escort Lucia and Tony from the room. Lara follows, throwing one last manic grin at Tony that makes him visibly recoil.

Adam and I exit through a separate door, where my security team waits in the hallway. Their posture shifts subtly as I approach.

“Orders, ma’am?” one asks, uncertainty in her voice.

I feel a strange lightness in my chest, an unfamiliar weightlessness that I slowly recognize as freedom. “Take us to the car,” I say simply. “We’re leaving Boston tonight.”

As we walk through the corridor toward the exit, one of my security detail steps closer to me, her posture rigid with professional concern.

“Ma’am,” she says in a low voice, leaning in so only I can hear. “We’ve received some unusual reports regarding Connor’s movements.”

“Who?” I pause mid-stride, my eyebrows lifting slightly. “Oh, him?”

The name strikes me as something from another lifetime. Connor, Adam’s alleged friend, the one who offered himself up as a patsy for Candice’s murder. The memory feels distant, like watching scenes from someone else’s life playing on an old film reel. I never could tie him to Adam at all.

“Relieve the team. It’s irrelevant now.” I say, waving my hand dismissively. “The team on his sister, too.”

She hesitates, shifting her weight slightly. “But ma’am, there’s something weird about his recent…”

“Drop it,” I cut her off, my voice sharper than intended.

Adam glances over at us, his adorable face creasing with concern. His eyes meet mine, questioning and wary. He’s gotten better at reading my moods, at detecting the subtle shifts in my tone that signal danger.

I soften immediately, reaching out to touch his cheek with gentle fingers. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” I say, loud enough for him to hear, my gaze holding his. “None of that matters now.”

His shoulders relax slightly, but I can see the questions forming behind his eyes. He’s gotten bolder since his rehab, more willing to push boundaries.

“What doesn’t matter?” he asks, his voice quiet but steady.

I slide my arm around his waist, pulling him close against my side as we continue walking. “Just some loose ends,” I explain, keeping my tone light. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

The security team parts before us as we approach the private exit, the afternoon sun streaming through the glass doors ahead. Adam leans into me slightly, his warmth against my side still a novelty I haven’t tired of.

We’re only a few steps from the waiting car when movement catches my eye. A figure darts from behind a nearby vehicle, sprinting toward us with alarming speed. The security team reacts instantly, reaching for weapons, but they’re too slow.

“LET ADAM GO, YOU SLIMY BITCH!” The voice hits me a split second before I recognize the face, Connor, his features twisted with rage, a gun clutched in his shaking hands.

Time seems to slow as he raises the weapon, aiming directly at me. I stand frozen, my brain struggling to process this all at once.

The crack of gunfire shatters the moment. I brace for impact, for pain that doesn’t come. Instead, Adam jumps to cover me, his body jerking violently as the bullets meant for me tear into his chest.

“NO!” The scream guttural from my throat as Adam crumples, his weight suddenly dead in my arms. We collapse together onto the pavement, his blood already soaking through his shirt, spreading across my hands as I try desperately to stem the flow.

Behind us, chaos erupts. Connor’s face registers shock, pure, undiluted horror before my security team tackles him to the ground. His gun skitters across the pavement as they pin him, his screams becoming incoherent wails.

“Adam! Adam, baby, stay with me,” I beg, cradling his head in my lap. My hands press against his wounds, but the blood keeps coming, hot and slick between my fingers. His handsome face is already growing pale, those warm brown eyes glazing with pain.

“Call an ambulance!” I scream at my security team, my voice unrecognizable even to my own ears. “NOW!”

Adam’s lips move, forming words I have to lean down to hear. “Please,” he whispers, each syllable a struggle. “Don’t kill Connor. Please.”

His eyes lock onto mine with an intensity that cuts through my panic. Despite the pain contorting his features, there’s a clarity in his gaze that freezes the breath in my lungs. As he passes out, he mutters three final words.

“I love you.”

A/N: Epilogue eventually. Could be today, tomorrow, or hell maybe next month. who knows.