Chapter 10 - THE FIRST MORNING
The morning sun broke over the Chicago skyline, casting long, golden streaks across the manicured lawns of the Moretti estate. For the first time since I started working here, the house didn't feel like a museum of cold marble and suppressed secrets. It felt alive.
I woke up in my new quarters. Luca had moved me out of the cramped servant’s wing and into a spacious suite on the second floor, right down the hall from Leo's new bedroom. The bed was softer, the air was warmer, and the heavy weight of financial terror that had sat on my chest for a year was completely gone.
I had already called my mother. Hearing her cry tears of joy when I told her the surgery was fully paid for was a sound I would carry with me to my grave.
I showered, dressed in comfortable clothes—no more stiff black-and-white maid's uniform—and walked down the hall.
The door to the master suite was slightly open. I peeked inside.
Luca was awake, sitting in a leather armchair by the window, watching his wife sleep. Caroline was curled up under the thick duvet, her breathing deep and even. It was the sleep of someone who finally knew she wouldn't be hunted in her dreams.
Luca looked up and saw me. He offered a small, tired smile and stepped out into the hallway, pulling the door shut gently.
"Good morning, Emily," he said quietly. He looked exhausted, the bruises on his face darkening, but there was a profound peace in his posture.
"Good morning, Mr. Moretti. How is she?"
"Resting," he sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "The doctors came early this morning. She’s malnourished, and she needs therapy, but physically, she’s going to recover. They said she’s incredibly strong."
"She survived six years in the dark," I said. "She’s the strongest woman I know."
Luca nodded, looking toward Leo’s door. "He’s awake. Natalie is in there with him."
I walked down the hall and gently pushed Leo’s door open.
The room had been quickly converted from a sterile guest room into a makeshift child's paradise. Blankets, pillows, and a pile of brand-new toys Luca’s men had acquired overnight were scattered across the floor.
Natalie was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, helping Leo build a towering structure out of wooden blocks.
Leo looked up when I entered. His dark eyes, which had held such paralyzing terror just twelve hours ago, now sparkled with a hesitant curiosity.
"Hi, Emily," he said softly.
"Hi, Leo," I smiled, sitting down next to him. "That’s a very impressive tower."
"Auntie Nat helped me," he said proudly. "She says it's a castle to keep the dragons out."
Natalie looked at me, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "We were just talking about breakfast. Leo says he’s never had pancakes."
My heart broke a little, but I kept my smile wide. "Never had pancakes? Well, we have to fix that immediately. Maria is downstairs right now making the biggest stack of chocolate chip pancakes in the history of Chicago."
Leo’s eyes widened. "Really?"
"Really," I promised. "Go get your slippers."
As Leo scrambled toward the closet, Natalie leaned over to me. "Thank you. For everything. I was so scared I’d lost my sister forever, and now... I have a nephew. I feel like I'm dreaming."
"It's real," I assured her.
Suddenly, a loud commotion echoed from the front driveway.
Natalie and I exchanged a nervous look. The trauma of last night was still fresh. I stood up quickly and went to the window, looking down at the front gates.
A fleet of black SUVs had pulled up to the estate. But they weren't mobsters. They were police cruisers, accompanied by several unmarked federal vehicles.
Luca was already walking down the front steps, his hands casually tucked into his pockets, flanked by his remaining security men.
"What's happening?" Natalie asked, coming up beside me.
"I think Luca is finally cleaning house," I whispered.
I told Natalie to stay with Leo, and I hurried downstairs. I stepped out onto the front porch just as a man in a sharp grey suit—an FBI agent, judging by his badge—stepped out of the lead vehicle.
"Mr. Moretti," the agent said, his tone entirely serious. "We received your package."
Luca stood tall, completely unbothered. "I assume you found the contents illuminating, Agent Vance."
"Illuminating is an understatement," the agent replied. "The files on Vanessa Bellini, the Swiss clinic records, the wire transfers confirming her involvement in the murder of your parents, and the location of the New York Commission members you apprehended last night... it’s the biggest organized crime bust of the decade."
"And Vanessa?" Luca asked coldly.
"She’s in federal custody," the agent confirmed. "Given the evidence, she’s looking at life in a maximum-security psychiatric facility. She won't ever see the sun again."
Luca nodded once. "Good."
"But Mr. Moretti," the agent continued, stepping closer. "Handing us your rivals on a silver platter is one thing. You understand that this brings a massive spotlight onto your own operations, right?"
Luca looked back at the house, his eyes lingering on the second-story window where his wife and son were.
"I don't care about the operations anymore," Luca said, his voice ringing with absolute finality. "Take the docks. Take the warehouses. The Moretti family is out of the business. Permanently."
The agent looked stunned. "You're retiring?"
"I'm going to be a husband," Luca corrected him. "And a father. If you ever come to this house again, Agent Vance, you better have a warrant or an invitation to a birthday party. Have a good day."
May you like
Luca turned his back on the federal agents and walked up the steps. He looked at me, a genuine smile breaking across his face.
"Come on, Emily," Luca said. "I hear someone requested pancakes."
