Chapter 5 - The Glass Tower
At eleven-forty-five the following morning, Tessa stood on the rain-swept sidewalk outside her building, holding eight-year-old Leo by the hand.
Leo was wearing his best navy corduroy trousers and a yellow raincoat with a broken plastic zipper. His dark curls were neatly combed, his wide, curious hazel eyes darting across the street as he took in the sleek black sedan idling by the fire hydrant. Leo’s hands were moving constantly, fingers fluttering against the front of his coat:
Big car, he signed excitedly to Tessa. Like in the movie about the spies? Are we going to the doctor with the white hair?
No, sweetheart, Tessa signed back, kneeling on the cold concrete to straighten his collar. We’re meeting a friend. A man who speaks our language.
Leo tilted his head, his brow furrowing in deep skepticism. Nobody speaks our language except the lady at the speech clinic and Mr. Henderson at the bodega.
This man does, Tessa promised, standing up just as Dante stepped out of the driver's side, holding an oversized black golf umbrella over the wet sidewalk.
The drive north took them out of the rough industrial grit of Pilsen and into the towering glass canyon of the Loop. The sedan swept down an underground ramp beneath the Marquetti Building—a seventy-story black monolith of steel and tinted glass that dominated the riverfront like a modern fortress.
The private executive elevator required no buttons; Dante swiped a heavy titanium card across a black sensor, and the car rose sixty-five floors in twenty seconds of smooth, ear-popping silence.
When the doors slid open, they stepped into a vast, minimalist penthouse office that felt more like a modern art museum than a corporate headquarters. The floor was polished white terrazzo, the walls paneled in bleached oak, and the entire northern wall consisted of fifty feet of curved, floor-to-ceiling glass looking out over the misty expanse of Lake Michigan.
Standing by the window, hands clasped behind his back, was Salvatore.
He wore a tailored midnight-blue suit that emphasized the broad lines of his shoulders. When he turned around at the sound of the elevator chime, his gaze swept over Tessa before locking onto the little boy standing beside her.
Leo didn't hide behind his sister’s skirt.
He stopped in the center of the vast white floor, dropped Tessa’s hand, and stared up at the massive, dark-haired man towering above him. Leo looked at Salvatore’s expensive silk tie, then down at his polished Italian leather shoes, and finally straight up into Salvatore’s unsmiling, scarred face.
Then, with the fearless, blunt innocence of an eight-year-old, Leo raised both hands and signed:
You are very tall. Do you play basketball?
Dante, standing by the doorway, let out a tiny, involuntary cough that sounded suspiciously like a choked laugh.
Salvatore didn't laugh. But the corner of his mouth twitched upward by a fraction of an inch.
Slowly, deliberately, the most feared syndicate leader in the state dropped down onto one knee, resting his tailored trousers directly against the cold terrazzo floor until his eyes were level with the little boy’s.
His hands rose, fluid and gentle:
I do not play basketball, Salvatore signed back. I am too slow. But I know where they keep the best chocolate gelato in Chicago.
Leo’s jaw dropped open. His eyes went wide as saucers. He whipped around to look at Tessa, his hands flying in absolute pandemonium:
Tessa! His hands work! He talks like me!
Tessa pressed her hand against her mouth, fighting back a sudden, overwhelming wave of tears that burned behind her eyes.
Salvatore turned his head slightly, his dark gaze finding hers across the open room. He held her eyes for three long beats, a silent, profound understanding passing between them through the quiet air of the sixty-fifth floor.
May you like
Then Salvatore pointed a finger toward an adjoining suite where two men in white lab coats were standing quietly beside a sleek diagnostic table covered in high-end electronic testing gear.
The engineers from the Zurich clinic, Salvatore signed to Tessa, his movements soft, almost reverent. They flew in this morning. They have the new waterproof processors.
