Chapter 12: A Name Left in the Ashes
Three months passed.
In the national news, the dismantling of the Midwest Syndicate was hailed as the largest organized crime takedown of the decade. Salvatore and Marco were sentenced to consecutive life terms without parole at ADX Florence.
In the official police records, Gabriel Vance was listed as *presumed deceased*—his car found burned near the docks, his empire dissolved, his daughter’s empty casket kept as a chilling piece of criminal evidence.
Two thousand miles away, on the rugged coastline of Oregon, a small wooden cottage sat perched on a green bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean.
The salt air was crisp and sweet, carrying the scent of pine needles and wild coastal roses.
Gabriel—now wearing worn denim, a flannel shirt, and work boots—was finishing the construction of a wooden porch swing. His hands, once accustomed to cold steel and ledger books, were now calloused from cedar timber and soil.
Down on the shore, a little girl with bright rosy cheeks and flowing brown hair ran laughing through the crashing surf.
May you like
Right beside her, leaping joyfully over the foamy waves, was a massive black-and-tan Rottweiler, barking with unrestrained delight.
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