Chapter 8 - THE HEIRLOOM
I looked down at the silver charm resting against my collarbone.
“My mother gave it to me,” I said softly. “She said my grandmother brought it with her from Italy. It’s the only thing we have left of her.”
Luca held his father’s watch up next to my necklace. The two tiny silver cooking pots matched perfectly. They were halves of a set.
“My father had this made in Naples,” Luca said, his voice thick with wonder. “He told me once that the other half belonged to the person who taught him how to cook. The person who gave him his dream.”
Carlo Vitale stood nearby, watching the exchange with a gentle smile. “Isabella and Antonio. They were a team. And now, it seems, their children have found each other.”
The flashing police lights outside finally began to fade as the FBI transports drove away, taking Richard and Vanessa Bellini out of our lives forever. The quiet of the Chicago night slowly settled over the shattered mansion.
Michael ran into the room, out of breath. “Luca! The police said everyone is secure. Are you okay? Is Emily okay?”
“We’re fine, Michael,” Luca said, clapping his brother on the shoulder.
“I called Ohio,” Michael blurted out, tears of joy in his eyes. “I talked to Mia’s mother. They’re safe. The private investigators Vanessa hired pulled out as soon as her accounts were frozen. I’m going to see her tomorrow, Luca. I’m bringing her home.”
Luca smiled, a genuine, warm smile I had never seen on him before. “Bring her here. This house has been too quiet for too long. It needs a child’s laughter.”
Michael hugged him fiercely, then turned and gave me a crushing hug. “Thank you, Emily. For everything.”
As Michael left to pack his bags for Ohio, the gravity of the night finally hit me.
My knees felt weak. I looked around the destroyed dining room. The overturned chairs, the spilled wine, the shattered glass. It looked like a war zone.
“I should… I should go pack my things,” I said quietly, looking down at my shoes.
Luca frowned. “Pack your things? Where are you going?”
“Mrs. Bellini fired me, remember?” I offered a weak, self-deprecating smile. “I was supposed to pack my bags after I cleaned up the wine.”
Luca stepped closer, his dark eyes locking onto mine. “Vanessa Bellini does not run this house. She never did. And you are not a maid, Emily.”
He reached out and gently touched the silver charm resting on my chest.
“You are an heir to the Moretti legacy,” Luca said softly. “Half of that restaurant, half of the land, belongs to you and your mother. Tomorrow, my lawyers will release the two million dollars Vanessa stole and return it to your family.”
I gasped. Two million dollars. My mother could finally retire. She could buy a house with a garden. She would never have to worry about her heart medication again.
Tears spilled over my cheeks. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll stay,” Luca said.
I looked up at him, startled. “Stay?”
“Not as an employee,” he clarified, his voice dropping to a low, intimate timber. “As a partner. We’re going to rebuild the restaurant, Emily. Exactly the way my father and your grandmother dreamed it. And I want you to run it with me.”
He reached out and gently wiped a tear from my cheek with his thumb.
“And maybe,” he added softly, “we can build something else, too.”
My heart fluttered in my chest. The terrifying mafia boss I had feared for eleven months was gone. In his place was a man who fiercely loved his family, and who looked at me like I was the most precious thing in the world.
“Okay,” I whispered. “I’ll stay.”
May you like
Luca smiled. He leaned in, and I closed my eyes.
But before his lips could touch mine, a sharp ringing echoed from the hallway.
