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Chapter 71

I stuck the dirt with my trowel, loosening the soil just as Florence showed me. I dug a hole large enough for the roots before grabbing my watering can beside me and delicately sprinkling water across the flower bed that rested against the wall of the Vino estate.

I grabbed my gardening gloves from my jacket pocket and quickly slid them onto my hands before grabbing the tiny bougainvillea plant beside me. A small smile came to my face as I lifted the plant by the base and gently positioned it into the hole I dug. I used the trowel to push the dirt over the maze of roots before tenderly evening out the soil with my gloved hands.

Roughly nine months have passed since that fateful day in New York, a day that I would never forget thanks to my photographic memory. 

I'll never forget how I ran to her, and how my mother took her last breath in my arms as her blood seeped through the fabric of my clothes. How I sat there, in that damp cell underneath the Russian Mafia's hideout, rocking back and forth as I wailed in anguish while clutching onto her still-warm body.

How Dante ran to my side, stroking my hair and comforting me until the reinforcements Angelo called for arrived. It's as if I can still feel the way my body went into shock, and how my heart was racing as if it was trying to burst through my chest. I shuddered as I remembered the way my body shut down entirely, forcing Dante to gingerly carry me out of the hideout while his men delicately transported Damon and my mother's bodies.

But after the dust settled, there was still one question that loomed over the world of organized crime: Who will take over the Russian Mafia? 

Apparently, I was the rightful heir. And according to their simple-minded rules it technically belonged to me, the hacker with zero operational expierence. 

And I welcomed the challenge with open arms. 

Over the past few months, I dove into the new challenges that came with running a Mafia. I embraced the fourteen-hour workdays, grateful for something to distract my mind from the grief that haunted my mind. 

But Dante was with me every step of the way. He wasn't just there for me emotionally but was also there to guide me. He was teaching me everything he knew and was helping me not only lead the Russian Mafia, but to also morph me into the leader I didn't even know I was.

I sighed as I admired the bright red hue of the bracts, reminiscing on how this was one of my mother's favorite plants in the Vino's garden. She would always look up at the vining leaves, admiring their vibrant colors. 

"It's beautiful." A deep voice spoke from behind me. I turned my head over my shoulder to see Dante standing in the center of the courtyard. The string lights above us illuminated the night sky, making his blonde hair glow. 

"Thanks." I said as I gave him a small smile. The soft sound of water splashing from a nearby fountain filled the air, creating an atmosphere of tranquility around us. 

I took a deep breath as I heard his soft footsteps draw near. He walked beside me and gently grabbed my hand within his before we both stood there and admired one of the many new additions I planted in the Vino garden. I squeezed his hand tightly but was slightly taken aback at the clamminess of his palm. 

Florence was right, there was something liberating about planting life into the soil and watching it grow. 

My mother I spent hours within the gardens, admiring the roses in bloom, the hummingbirds drifting between different flowers, and sitting under the Bouginevillas as we ate breakfast every morning. Whenever I walk through the estate's gardens, I will always think of her. But now, when I walk through the new section I planted, I'll always remember her and cherish the memories I was able to create with her while she was still here.