Chapter 8 - The Ghost of Nico
While our position in New York was stronger than ever, one unresolved debt still weighed heavily on my conscience: Nico, my faithful driver who had died in the FDR crash.
Nico had left behind a wife, Maria, and a ten-year-old daughter named Sofia living in Queens. Although I had quietly set up a trust fund to ensure their house was paid off and Sofia's education was fully funded, I had not yet visited them in person since the trial ended.
On a rainy Saturday afternoon, Grace and I drove out to Queens in an unmarked black sedan.
We parked in front of a modest, well-kept brick house with a small garden out front.
"Are you ready for this?" Grace asked softly, placing her hand over mine on the gearshift.
"Nico served my family for twelve years," I said, looking out at the rain-slicked street. "He died because someone wanted to hit me. I owe his family the truth."
We walked up the stone steps, and I knocked gently on the door.
A moment later, Maria opened it. Her hair was pulled back, her face lined with grief, but when she saw me standing there, her eyes widened in shock.
"Mr. Moretti..." Maria whispered, her hands clutching her apron.
"Hello, Maria," I said quietly. "May we come in?"
"Of course... please," she said, stepping aside quickly.
We sat in the cozy living room, surrounded by framed photographs of Nico smiling at family barbecues and holding Sofia on his shoulders. Sofia sat near the hallway entrance, watching us with quiet, solemn eyes.
"Maria," I began, my voice thick with emotion. "I know no amount of money or justice can bring Nico back. The people responsible for the crash—Veronica Hale and Anthony Moretti—are going to spend the rest of their lives in prison."
Maria looked down at her lap, tears slowly trickling down her cheeks. "Nico always spoke so highly of you, Mr. Moretti. He always said you were a fair man. He knew the risks of his work."
"It shouldn't have cost him his life," I said firmly. I gestured to Grace, who reached into her bag and pulled out a sleek silver folder.
"Maria," Grace spoke softly, stepping forward and placing the folder on the coffee table. "Dominic has established the Nico Rossi Educational Foundation. It fully endows Sofia's schooling through university, covers all medical expenses for your family indefinitely, and assigns a permanent legal defense team to safeguard your home and assets."
Maria stared at the documents, her lips trembling as she looked up at Grace, then at me. "Mr. Moretti... this is too much..."
"It isn't enough," I replied honestly, standing up and taking Maria's hand. "Nico was family. And as long as I am breathing, you and Sofia will never want for anything. You have my word."
As we walked back to the car in the light rain, Grace looked up at me, her eyes soft with admiration.
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"Nico would be proud of how you handled this, Dominic," she said quietly.
"Nico deserved better," I said, opening the passenger door for her. "In our world, loyalty is rare. When you find it, you protect it with everything you have."
