THE NIGHT BROOKLYN’S MOST FEARED MAFIA BOSS WALKED INTO MY RESTAURANT, HE FOUND ME SITTING BESIDE HIS ELDERLY MOTHER WITH HER MEDICATION IN MY HAND—AND WITHIN SECONDS, EVERYONE WAS WATCHING ME. BUT WHY DID ANTONIO RUSSO LOOK AT ME LIKE I HAD JUST CHANGED MY LIFE FOREVER? / Chapter 17 / 20

Chapter 17 - A Visit from the PastLife continued with a steady, beautiful rhythm until a crisp Tuesday afternoon when an unexpected visitor arrived at our estate.

I was in the sunroom reviewing quarterly budget proposals for the community healthcare foundation when Victor knocked softly on the open door and stepped inside.

“Mrs. Russo,” Victor said, maintaining his usual formal posture, though a slight hesitation lingered in his eyes. “You have a visitor at the front gates. Someone from your past.”

I frowned, setting my tablet down on the glass table. “From my past? Who?”

“Marco. The head waiter from Bellarosa.”

Surprise jolted through me. I hadn’t seen or heard from Marco since the night Antonio first intervened at the restaurant.

“Let him in, Victor. Bring him to the garden patio.”

Ten minutes later, I walked out to the patio. Marco stood nervously near the edge of the stone fountain, clutching a worn leather cap in his hands, looking thoroughly intimidated by the sprawling mansion and the two armed guards standing discreetly near the property lines. When he saw me approach, he bowed his head quickly.

“Sophie—I mean, Mrs. Russo,” Marco stammered, looking pale. “I’m sorry to intrude. I really am. But... I lost my job at Bellarosa last month when management changed, and things have been rough. I remembered you always had a kind heart, and I... well, I was hoping maybe there was a position here, or a recommendation you could offer?”

I looked at him for a long moment. I remembered how harshly he had treated me, how he used to snap orders and force me to endure double shifts while treating me like an invisible ghost. But looking at him now—defeated, desperate, and humbled by life—all resentment vanished.

“Sit down, Marco,” I said gently, gesturing to a chair by the table.

I ordered fresh coffee and pastries brought out for him. We talked for twenty minutes about how he was trying to rebuild his life after the restaurant industry crashed. Before he left, I didn't just give him a recommendation; I secured him a management position at a prestigious, upscale Italian restaurant downtown that was entirely under Russo foundation partnership.

As Marco left, expressing tearful and profuse gratitude, Antonio stepped out from the French doors, having watched the entire interaction from the study.