Chapter 3 - THE UNEXPECTED VOW
The morning light broke over the city,
not with the roar of a lion,
but with the soft chime of an alarm clock.
Damiano was already awake,
standing in his dressing room,
looking at a row of black suits that all looked the same.
He hadn't slept well,
the memory of the girl’s request haunted his dreams,
mixing with the faces of those he had lost.
He chose a navy suit,
something a bit more approachable than his usual funeral attire,
and he tied his tie with a precision that was almost violent.
Rafael knocked on the door,
his face reflecting the stress of a man who had spent the night cancelling mafia sit-downs.
"The car is ready,"
Rafael said,
"and the perimeter around the school is secure."
"We have men in the trees,"
"men in the cafe across the street,"
"and the teachers' backgrounds have been checked."
Damiano looked at his reflection,
the scars on his knuckles hidden by his cuffs,
and he felt a strange sense of nerves.
"I don't need a perimeter for a school play,
Rafael,"
he muttered,
though he knew it was a lie.
"Marchetti is still angry about the gala,"
"he might see this as an opportunity."
"If a single hair on that girl’s head is touched,"
"I will burn New York to the ground."
He walked down to the kitchen,
where Mia and Elena were waiting.
Mia was wearing her best blue dress,
her hair tied in ribbons that Elena must have stayed up all night sewing.
She looked at Damiano and beamed,
running toward him as if he were actually her father.
"Good morning,
Daddy!"
she shouted,
the word hitting Damiano like a physical blow.
Elena flinched at the word,
her face pale,
waiting for him to correct the child.
But Damiano only nodded,
his hand reaching out to pat Mia’s head with an awkward tenderness.
"Morning,"
he said,
his voice gravelly from the morning air.
"Are you ready for the show?"
"Yes!"
Mia jumped up and down,
"we have to be there by eight!"
They walked to the armored SUV,
the neighbors on the Upper East Side peeking through their curtains as the mafia boss escorted a child to a school bus.
Elena sat in the front,
her hands clasped in her lap,
unable to believe the reality of the situation.
Inside the car,
Mia talked non-stop,
telling Damiano about her favorite colors,
her best friend Lily,
and the mean boy named Toby who said her house was just a basement.
Damiano listened,
really listened,
his mind mapping out the social hierarchy of a first-grade classroom.
"Don't worry about Toby,"
Damiano said,
his eyes flashing with a cold light,
"by the end of the day,"
"he will be very quiet."
Mia laughed,
thinking it was a joke,
but Elena shuddered,
knowing that Damiano Verrone didn't make jokes.
They arrived at the St. Jude’s Primary School,
a prestigious institution where the children of billionaires played in the sand.
The SUV pulled up to the curb,
followed by two other black cars filled with armed guards.
The parents standing at the gate stopped talking,
their eyes wide as the most feared man in the city stepped out of the vehicle.
Damiano walked around and opened the door for Mia,
holding out his hand for her to take.
She grabbed it,
her small fingers disappearing into his palm,
and she led him toward the school entrance.
"Look!"
Mia shouted to a group of girls,
"my daddy is here!"
The teachers looked at Damiano,
their faces turning white,
knowing exactly who he was from the morning news.
He stood tall,
his presence commanding the playground,
a wolf in a world of sheep.
But as he looked down at the girl skipping beside him,
the wolf felt a strange,
forgotten warmth in his chest.
May you like
He was a father today,
and God help anyone who dared to say otherwise.
