Months later, Gabriel brought me a slim file.
The file said Marcello had traded his custom suits for rags and his signet ring for cheap liquor. He wandered the slums, sometimes shouting my name at the sky.
Enzo and Bianca had become withdrawn and non-compliant. On weekends, they watched through barred windows as other children left the state facility with their parents.
The final note described them as too young to understand the choice they had made.
I held the file until the shredder's light went green, then fed in the pages.
Two weeks later, I stood above the completed Valerian Harbor. Sunlight flashed off a hundred container ships. The Governor stood on my right and Wall Street tycoons lined up on my left.
Someone handed me oversized silver scissors. Cameras flashed when I cut th
