Stany Falcone -

He took the letter. The handwriting was Mario’s—looping, hurried, like a man writing on a sinking ship.

“Stany—If you’re reading this, I’m already gone. And I deserved it. But the girl is innocent. She doesn’t know what I did. She only knows her papa loved her. I’m not asking for forgiveness. I’m asking for you to be the man you could have been, once, before you became this. Keep her safe. It’s the only debt you still owe.” Stany Falcone

A knock came at the vault door. Three slow raps. He took the letter

“I know,” Elena said. She opened the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper. “He wrote me a letter before he… before he went away. He said if I ever needed to be safe, I should come to you.” And I deserved it

She smiled then—a real smile, bright and unafraid. “Too late,” she said. “I already know how to pick locks.”

He looked at Elena. She wasn’t afraid. She was watching him with the same unnerving stillness her father had once used when facing down a rival.