When I pressed submit, something in my chest finally loosened. A knot I hadn't realized I'd been carrying for three years.
Thirty days. The countdown to freedom had begun.
A week passed before his next message arrived.
Property transfer center. 3 PM. Finalizing the deed.
Seven days of silence. No texts. No calls. No visits to the Family's private clinic where I lay recovering from what his neglect had cost me.
I was learning to exist in the emptiness he had always offered.
That afternoon, I arrived at three-thirty.
He was already waiting in the lobby of the transfer office, a legitimate front that the Families used for moving assets between names. The afternoon light caught the sharp angles of his face, illuminating the dark circles beneath his eyes that even his perfect composure couldn't hide.
Nico Volpe despised tardiness. Every soldier in his crew knew it. Every associate who had ever kept him waiting had learned to regret it.
But there wasn't a trace of impatience on his face. Not today.
The moment I appeared, a woman from the VIP counter approached with practiced deference.
"Mrs. Volpe, everything has been prepared."