Chapter 10 - The True Heir Restored
Through the heavy glass of the terrace doors, Richard watched without a single ounce of pity as Mark and Claudia stumbled blindly into the roaring, sub-zero blizzard. They had absolutely no chance of survival, and their screams were quickly swallowed entirely by the howling wind.
The ultimate justice had been served.
Richard turned his back on the storm and walked slowly back to the towering stone fireplace. The terrifying, lethal aura of the mafia boss completely vanished, replaced once again by the gentle, protective grandfather.
Noah was sitting up, completely warm, buried deep inside the massive, expensive overcoat. He was holding the two halves of the wooden airplane, trying to put them back together.
Richard knelt down on the plush rug. He reached out with his massive, scarred hands, gently helping the toddler reassemble the wooden toy, fitting the pieces together perfectly.
"Is the airplane broken, Grandpa?" Noah asked softly, looking up with his bright, innocent eyes.
"No, piccolo," Richard smiled, a genuine, profound warmth returning to his intense gray eyes. He pulled the little boy into a tight, unbreakable embrace. "It's exactly the way it's supposed to be. It did its job perfectly."
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Richard looked around the luxurious mountain lodge. The traitors were gone. The empire was secure. And the only heir that mattered was finally safe in his arms, never to experience the cold again.
If you were Richard, would you have banished your son into the freezing blizzard, or would you have handed him over to the police for the murder of his wife?
