Chapter 9 - The Settlement
The dining room fell into a heavy, respectful silence once the doors swung shut behind Vincent and the guards.
Gabriel walked slowly back to the head of the table, standing beside his mother’s chair. He placed a large, calloused hand gently on Beatrice’s shoulder. She looked up at him, her eyes fierce, demanding, and fiercely proud.
Then, she turned her gaze toward me.
Her hands moved again, signing slowly, deliberately, with a grace that brought a sudden, tight lump to my throat.
You carried my voice when everyone else wanted me to remain silent. You honor your brother’s memory well, Chloe.
I didn't need to translate that one aloud for the room. I felt it in my chest. I simply nodded back, my eyes stinging with hot, sudden tears that I quickly blinked away.
Gabriel turned his attention to Elaine and me. He walked around the table until he was standing right in front of my chair.
“Miss Mercer,” Gabriel said, his voice surprisingly gentle compared to the cold fury he had projected moments earlier. “You saved my mother from being robbed of her legacy, and you exposed a cancer inside my organization. I don't know how to repay a debt like that.”
“You don't owe me anything, Mr. Costello,” I said, standing up to meet his gaze eye-to-eye. “I wanted justice for her. And I wanted to make sure nobody ever thinks they can intimidate a working-class woman just because she wears drugstore shoes.”
A slow, respectful smile touched the corner of Gabriel’s mouth.
“Fair enough,” he said. He reached into his inner suit jacket and pulled out a heavy, cream-colored envelope, placing it neatly beside my water glass.
“Inside that envelope is a certified cashier’s check from the Costello Family Foundation, covering a full legal retainer for whatever future you want to build—whether that’s finishing your education, starting a business, or attending law school alongside Miss Brooks here,” Gabriel said. “And secondly... the restaurant Il Canto? Salvatore sold the lease this afternoon. It’s now under new management. If you ever want to run a dining room on your own terms—or own one—the keys are yours.”
May you like
I looked at the envelope, then at Elaine, who gave me a subtle, encouraging nod.
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “I think I’ll pass on running restaurants. But I might just take that law school retainer.”
