Chapter 5: The Marshmallow City
Chapter 5: The Marshmallow City
One year later, the sky over Lake Michigan was a brilliant, cloudless blue. The summer air was warm, carrying the sound of seagulls and the distant hum of traffic from the Lake Shore Drive.
The backyard of the Marino estate was no longer an empty expanse of manicured lawn and security towers. A massive wooden playground had been built near the seawall, featuring two high slides, a climbing wall, and a sandbox large enough to hold a miniature kingdom.
A large white tent had been set up near the terrace, beneath which sat fifty guests—not mob captains or corrupt judges, but real families, neighbors from Lake Forest, Andrea’s sister from Lincoln Park, and old Denise, who had traveled from Huntersville to see the wedding.
Gus stood near the entrance of the tent, wearing a tuxedo that looked slightly too tight for his massive shoulders, a bright pink carnation pinned to his lapel. He was smiling—a terrifying sight given the scar through his eyebrow, but a genuine one nonetheless.
"Papa! Andrea! Look!"
Luca’s voice rang out from the edge of the sandbox. He was six now, his dark curls bouncing as he ran toward the terrace, holding a massive structure made of toothpicks, glue, and white marshmallows.
"We built it!" Leo shouted, running right behind him. "The marshmallow city! The buildings can fly now!"
Enzo Marino walked out onto the terrace, wearing a midnight-blue tuxedo with a perfectly matched white silk tie—no orange today, but his face had never looked softer. He reached down and picked up both boys at the same time, lifting them into his arms as they showed him their sticky creation.
"An incredible piece of engineering, boys," Enzo laughed, kissing both of their cheeks before setting them down. "Go show your aunt. She’s been waiting to see the marshmallow towers."
As the boys ran off toward the tent, Enzo turned back toward the French doors of the house.
Andrea stood in the doorway. She wore a simple, elegant white lace dress that fell to her ankles, her hair pinned low at her neck with a few loose tendrils framing her face. She wasn't wearing cheap concealer anymore; her face was bright, clear, and radiant in the midday sun.
Enzo walked to her, his hand reaching out to clasp hers. He looked down at her palm, where the faint silver line of the scar from her first day remained—a permanent reminder of the second his fortress had found its weakness.
"You look beautiful, Mrs. Marino," Enzo whispered, his voice thick with an emotion he no longer tried to hide.
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"I had a good teacher," Andrea smiled, leaning her head against his shoulder as they looked out at their guests, at the flying marshmallow buildings, and at the two boys who were currently laughing louder than the music playing from the speakers.
The mob boss’s twins wouldn't let anyone touch them until one broke nanny hugged them in the storm. But today, the storm was gone. The fortress was open. And as Enzo drew her into his arms beneath the warm Chicago sun, Andrea knew that the wall she had built around his family was the only one that would ever matter again.
